


Valentines

by Warks1999



Series: Our Favourite Eejits [10]
Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28172034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warks1999/pseuds/Warks1999
Summary: Love is in the air and the gang all look to find it in their own way. The family also gain an unexpected new member courtesy of Joe, leading to a further unexpected discovery regarding one of them...Part 10 of Our Favourite Eejits
Relationships: James Maguire/Erin Quinn, Michelle Mallon/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Our Favourite Eejits [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045833
Comments: 57
Kudos: 23





	1. Horses for Courses

**Author's Note:**

> My personal favourite line so far is in this chapter, I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!

**Valentines**

**Chapter 1: Horses for Courses 9th February 1996**

School was finished for half term and the gang were all beyond relieved. Since the chaotic opening day of the term, when Moira O'Keefe failed to break the bond between James and Erin with her vile words, it had been a taxing few weeks. The mocks took their toll and in the week since the results, all of their attention was on what they needed to work on based on their results. Michelle arguably was working the hardest of them all but even with her newly found attitude to the examination process, the bubbly and sharp-tongued Mallon still existed. After a short time of withdrawal, Michelle did come back to her very best that week in terms of banter. James and Erin were consistently in violation of rule one of the Michelle Mallon code of practice and she kept up the same consistency when telling them about it too.

But it wasn't all work when it came to school that week either. Despite the actual day not falling until the Wednesday of the week they were off, Jenny organised a Valentine's card drop off throughout the week. She would be distributing the cards herself along with Aisling on the day to each person who received one. It was a collaboration with the boys school and Michelle had high hopes because of it. Only a couple of months before, any of them would have baulked at the idea of having to see Jenny Joyce when they were off school, let alone Valentine's day. But since she'd stood up for Erin against Moira, the gang's perception towards Jenny changed significantly. That morning they'd helped Jenny set up the assembly hall, putting the chairs out with her and making conversation. Obviously, her friendship with Harriet and Harriet's friendship with James helped to keep the rapport but on actually talking with Jenny for more than five minutes, they all realised they quite liked her. Though she'd been the archetypal teacher's pet for years, beneath that layer slept a sleeping dragon unafraid of challenging authority. Her impression of Sister Michael was the prime example of that. They were left nearly unable to breathe the first time she did it and Sister Michael herself walking in a couple of minutes later only heightened the effectiveness of it.

Michelle might have been looking forward to Valentine's day, but she potentially didn't need to be. She was on a date that night, something kept quiet from the gang until they boarded the bus to go back home. That was why she was missing when the gang congregated at Erin's at six o'clock, the four of them sat in her room listening to music without the raucous banter of their friend.

"I wonder how Michelle's getting on". Clare asked their opinions.

"Probably trying to ride him already". Erin sneered.

A chorus of agreement rang out around the room. Michelle always skipped the romantic touch that James showed with Erin; it just wasn't her style.

"At least she gets a date…" Clare sighed.

"Ach come on Clare, you just need a bit of confidence".

"Me? Confidence? Have you forgotten our years of friendship Erin?"

"Aye that is true actually".

"Did you put the card in then Clare?" James enquired.

Ever since she mentioned it by accident on Tuesday that week, Clare hated to talk or even think about the card. It was stupid of her to say anything to them, she knew that, and all week they encouraged her to do it despite her fears. She was scared of how the recipient would view her card and having to be at school with her everyday in the aftermath would be petrifying if it went wrong. The gang's persistence only made it worse.

"Yes". She whispered, looking away from them all.

"And I helped!" Orla gleefully admitted.

"Helped?" Erin responded incredulously. "What did ye do… put a knife in the card?"

Orla frowned, confused by her cousin's statement. _Why would I put a knife in the card, that would kill it and I don't want to go to jail…_

"I…I…" Clare stammered. "I got Orla to write the name on the card. I got nervous after finishing writing the message inside and… well I wasn't going to go through with it… but…".

"I said I'd do it". Orla finished the story for her. "I have my own card to send anyway".

If Erin was flummoxed by Orla playing a part in Clare's attempt at happiness, then she became totally dumbfounded by the news of Orla's own participation in Valentine's Day. Orla wouldn't know love if it hit her on the head and suddenly she was sending someone a card on Valentine's Day. But to who? As far as Erin knew Orla didn't speak to any boys other than James and she'd already claimed the wee English fella for herself. _Oh wait…_

"You didn't… Orla you didn't send a card to OLIVER CROMWELL!"

"Aye I did Erin".

James started laughing at the thought of a Valentine's card for a man who died in 1658. Poor Jenny would have to try and distribute that card too. He was reprimanded by Erin, who smacked him in the side rather viciously. He wasn't going to let her get away with it that easily though and got a hold of her arm. As he laid back, she rolled on top of him and after the initial squeak at the sudden movement, they were soon connected at the lips. His hands were travelling up and down her sides and then onto her hips. They were giggling between kisses and the passion and intensity increased all the time as their lips begged not to part.

"Erm… guys?"

In the absence of Michelle, it was up to Clare to put a stop to the frivolous frolicking on display in front of them. James and Erin separated on her words, but unlike when they'd been pulled away in the past, they no longer blushed. The point of blushing around the rest of the gang came to an end right there and then.

"Can you two get a room next time?" Clare continued, slightly disgusted.

"This is my room Clare". Erin pointed out in return.

"Oh… yeah". Clare would be the only one blushing in that room, but not for the reasons the other two usually had. "What are you two doing on the day then?"

"Ye… what are we doing?" Erin tilted her head at James.

The dark, mysterious glow of James's green eyes pierced right into Erin. Those were the eyes she craved when she dreamt about him, the ones she saw every time that they pressed up against each other in an empty corridor or when outside eyes could not pry. Those eyes made her heart race, and she could feel every sinew within her body sizzle and tingle when they found hers. Leaning in close to her, but far enough away so that the other two could hear, the melodic voice that accompanied those eyes spoke.

"It's a secret".

"Ooooohhhhhh".

Orla's wailing slightly ruined what was otherwise a very touching moment between the couple. Though Erin did owe her cousin some thanks; she was having a very hard time composing herself around James with his devilish secrecy. Pulling him in for another kiss, Erin ignored Clare's protestations and found James equally as wanting as they explored each other rather more thoroughly this time.

"WAINS, DINNER!"

Mary saved Clare and Orla's evening by shouting up to tell them that dinner was ready. Dinner being takeaway pizza's that Gerry and Sarah returned with, Sarah complaining as she always did when they were having pizza. Reluctantly breaking off their antics, James and Erin led the rest of the gang downstairs to eat, with Mary's watchful eye on them the moment they appeared in the kitchen.

* * *

Dinner remained uneventful. A rarity when it came to the Quinn house, where every mealtime seemed to throw up the unexpected or the often ridiculous anecdotes of one of them. Mary rejoiced in it being quieter without Michelle around and would make sure the Lord knew of her thanks at Sunday mass. Joe was out too so there was no bickering to be had between him and Gerry. _Gerry also owed the Lord a few kind words at church…_

Sarah's work was the main topic of conversation throughout the meal. After the tragic events of the new girl that never made it to work on her first day, another new girl had started that week who Sarah took a liking to. Mainly because she wasn't a very good beautician and there was no threat to Sarah's position as the best around unlike there had been before.

After dinner was finished with, the kids stayed in the living room and found themselves the job of entertaining baby Anna. Orla excelled in the role, often keeping Anna entertained for Mary when Mary needed a few minutes rest or a film with a handsome fella was on the TV. Clare was far too nervous to entertain a small child, although Anna appeared to be enjoying the blonde fretting around her, and often sat back while the others did the work. Having the kids looking after the baby allowed Mary and Gerry to clean the kitchen up whilst Sarah went outside to smoke for a change. The weather was rough that week, snow even making an appearance towards the start of it but by Friday it was gone, and Sarah could stand outside without being caught in a blizzard.

Mary was putting the last of the plates away when she noticed Gerry stood still looking into the living room. Curious at what had caught his attention, Mary soon joined him and with Joe not home, Gerry allowed himself to put his arm around her. Like they were young again. The scene that captivated him was that of Anna perched between James and Erin. The two of them were taking it in terms to tickle her or pinch her nose. They were giggling whilst doing it, making it even cuter for anyone looking in on them.

"How long do you give it?" Gerry asked Mary, without taking his eyes off the living room.

"Not anytime soon I hope". Mary replied, slightly irritated.

"But it will happen ye know Mary".

"Aye I know. And I want it to happen too just not yet".

"It didn't do us any harm did it. The life we've had together has been great".

"But sometimes I do wonder what we could have had if we'd waited. Careers…success… a bigger house than this…".

"Then we wouldn't have all this". Gerry moved his right hand to sweep in front of them. "I wouldn't swap it for the world and I'm not going to discourage them either if it's what they want".

Mary sighed at her husband's words. Without her father there to pick him up on every minor detail that came out of his mouth, Mary could be more open and expressive. Although she could not agree with Gerry's idea to not discourage it; she would be doing everything in her power to do so. Breaking from their embrace, Mary and Gerry both went back to clearing things away in the kitchen but were soon interrupted by Sarah calling out from the front door.

"Mary, ya all need to come and look at this!".

Trying to think what could possibly warrant her attention outside after dinner on a Friday night, Mary shared a quizzical look with first Gerry and then the kids. Curiosity killed, and Mary gestured to the kids to follow them outside. James picked up little Anna and kept a tight hold of her into his chest, with Anna finding warmth there like she'd done previously. Erin's overactive emotional gauge made her irrationally jealous of her baby sister for about half a second before she chided herself for the stupidity. Donning their coats, they all went out into the gloomy night to find a scene reminiscent of a Laurel and Hardy sketch.

Joe was stood on the road in front of their house.

With a horse.

The horsebox was just up the road, so they could at least rule out some sort of odd scheme of his to become a horse thief in late twentieth century Ireland but that didn't make it any easier to finding out what the hell Granda Joe was playing at.

"Da?" Mary asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Evening Mary love. Evening wains". Joe smiled, having to take a sturdier grip on the horse's reins when it began to wriggle. "Evening shitbag".

Gerry thought Joe had forgotten him for a minute. Or Gerry rather hoped Joe had forgotten him, but he was out of his miracle allowance for the week, so it wasn't to be.

"Have you… bought a horse Joe?" He asked.

"No I've bought a sheep ye eejit". Joe snapped back to Gerry's displeasure. "Of course it's a feckin horse".

"Oh grand!" Gerry sarcastically quipped back. "I mucked out the stables round the back for ye earlier Joe if ye want to take him round".

"Gerry!" Mary warned him in a low voice.

"No ye stupid fecker, I own the horse, I'm not the trainer".

"It's a racehorse?" Putting two and two together, Erin asked her Granda.

"That's right Erin love, a racehorse. Seeing as me and James keep doing so well on these horses, I figured it was time".

"Does he have a name Granda?" Orla, excited by the newest member of the family, enquired.

"Aye he does love. I've named him 'The Wee English Fella'".

James grinned heartily when Joe revealed that the horse had been named after him. Some famous people had streets or buildings named after them, but it would be an honour above all to have a horse named after him. He nodded his thanks to Joe, pulled back to attention by Anna who was tugging at the top of his coat.

"And where would you be racing him Joe? Will we be off to Cheltenham anytime soon?" Gerry's sarcasm hadn't retreated, and it was annoying Joe more than ever.

"Slow down there Linford Christie. He'll be going round the amateur haunts and the local tracks before we see about that".

"Right. You're a bit old to be a jockey though aren't ye Joe?"

Gerry felt Mary's nails dig into his hand in an effort to shut him up and not cause a row so almighty that it would disturb half of Derry. Joe simply stared back at Gerry with an icy smile on his face, and Gerry could only take that to mean one thing in relation to his question.

"No. Absolutely not, I am not…".

"Not you, ye free state tool! Christ, I wouldn't give you a leg up if I were a desperate working girl, ye daft bastard!".

On receiving perhaps the most damning rebuke he'd ever had from Joe, Gerry shut up and accepted another defeat. There was little anyone could do about Joe's latest adventure but the thought process behind owning a horse was a little hard to grasp. As was the financial element, something Mary saw fit to pull him up on.

"When I wanted a new kitchen we didn't have enough money but ye have enough for a horse Da… ye hidin' gold bullion in the house are ya?

"Ach I hope ye don't Granda!". Orla cried. "Sister Michael says bullyin' is wrong".

Mary closed her eyes and tried to forget what she'd just heard from Orla. An awfully familiar action when it came to her niece. Sarah found herself nodding to agree with her daughter and Joe simply smiled back at the two of them, ignoring Mary's reaction.

"Ye can blame the prick for the kitchen Mary. This is our investment from the winnings". Joe pointed at James for the latter.

"Our?" The Englishman spoke curiously.

"That's right son". Joe confirmed with him. "I've put us as co-owners of the horse. Mr J McCool and Mr J Maguire".

To think that the same man once called him gay or a potential rapist, James's could only warmly grin in Joe's direction. He never expected to find a rapport with him, especially after seeing how Joe treated Gerry, but from what started as a grudging respect on prom night, developed into a friendship of sorts. One that worked like clockwork. James assisted Joe with his betting but in return Joe taught him some important life lessons and allowed him to be with Erin. The horse was a reward for them both for the couple of months of that friendship.

And some say miracles don't happen.


	2. Babysitting

**Chapter 2: Babysitting 13** **th** **February 1996**

James woke up that morning feeling quite excited and also quite proud of himself. The delighted, if unexpected owner of a racehorse would be seeing the horse work out for the first time. Joe would be driving them over to the trainer's yard first thing, a morning of jumping before they would then be discussing race options for the horse. It was a four-year-old, a youngster that was yet to race at any level and in many ways was completely raw. The previous owner could no longer afford the fees to keep the horse with the trainer but handily for them, Joe and the trainer went well back. That knocked a bit off the monthly fees, but it was still an expensive venture for the two of them to embark on. But in many ways the excitement made the money worth it. Their own racehorse.

As he was waking, Aunt Deidre was returning to the house from the night shift at the Hospital and they exchanged the briefest of greetings before she went to bed. Michelle too woke early, and James was halfway through making himself a cup of tea when the typically clumsy early morning Michelle barrelled into the kitchen.

"Morning wank features".

James grunted at the usual barb.

"Morning Michelle. Do you want a cup too?"

"Is the Dalai Lama a Muslim?" She replied in an attempt to chastise him for being oblivious.

"He's a Buddhist actually…" He frowned.

"Whatever… of course I fucking want one".

A simple yes or no would have sufficed for James but his cousin had a unique way of explaining her requests to him and that was something he'd learned to live with. Michelle took up a spot at the dinner table, her feet commonly covering the surface of the table without a care in the world. She was wearing a simple shirt and jeans combination, looking as cool as anything staring into space waiting for her tea. James bought it over a couple of minutes later, huffing at her decision to place her feet right on the spot he would be putting his plate. Learning his lesson from the tea question, he did her a slice of toast as well as one for himself. It would have been foolish not to.

"Good night's sleep?" He started a conversation.

"Not bad dicko. Did ye hear all that shouting about three-ish?"

"That disturbed you too?" He enquired, receiving a nod of confirmation. "Probably just that weird bloke from down the street thinking's he's a wolf again".

"Aye probably. Fucking weirdo".

The odd noises were a consistent problem for them. One of the people down the street, a man around twenty-five years old, would go out into the street at night and howl into the dark sky. Since the turn of the year, it was an occurrence on most nights, and they could only hope to be too deep in their sleep to notice it.

"Can't believe Joe bought a fuckin' horse". Michelle said between bites. "I reckon both of ye are in some drug induced dream if ye think it'll do anything. Fuckin' thing will probably die in its first race".

"Thanks for the confidence". He muttered.

"What? I'm just stating the obvious James".

"It's not obvious". He countered. "The horse could be a champion for all we know".

"I'm not going to pretend I know anything about horse racing…" An annoyed Michelle began to rant. "… but if it were that good a horse, it wouldn't be owned by Joe McCool".

"I own it too". James corrected her.

"Point fuckin' proven. A dose like you doesn't get to own a champion racehorse and neither does Joe. Rich fucks own horses, not the likes of us".

She wasn't completely wrong in her assessment, but the world of racing was not totally inaccessible to those of their background. As long as you could provide the money, some of the trainers of the amateur horses would accept any owner without a judgement on their financial standing. Though James knew they were unlikely to find a champion in the horse Joe purchased. But it didn't really matter because they were going to have fun with the horse and that was the key for him and Joe. It kept their passion for the sport high.

* * *

Between all of them in the house, there seemed to be some sort of animosity or tension. Throughout the early morning there were arguments between various members. Gerry tried his best to avoid being dragged down any path where he left himself vulnerable and was relieved when it became time for him to go to work. Walking out to the car, he could still hear Mary and Joe's latest tussle.

"Yer having the wains Da!" Mary shouted at him.

"For the last time, no Mary!".

"Well I'm not having them all!" She raised her voice again. "I've got washing to do so I have, I can't be looking after the wains while I'm doing the whites and looking after Anna".

"And only the owners are going to see the horse. I can't be trying to watch my horse if I'm havin' to watch them too". Joe argued his point.

"Ach come on Granda, we're hardly toddlers now are we?" Erin smirked

"I want to see the horse!" Orla declared.

"You'll upset Orla Da". Sarah added to the arguments against him. "She's been on about that horse more than step ye know".

Orla's vigorous nodding only furthered the case for Joe to look after the kids. He only wanted to go with James to the trainer's yard, wishing to watch their newly acquired thoroughbred in peace to get to understand its scope better. Adding Erin and Orla to the mix, the former would be a distraction for his co-owner and the latter could run amok throughout the yard and cause a scene. They may have been his granddaughters but for once Joe needed to push them away and not give them the attention he usually would. But he was outnumbered in this argument and knowing he could not win against the whole house on this occasion, Joe reluctantly accepted.

"Fine". He sighed.

Mary's gracious smile did little to hide her inner pride at defeating her father in the argument, although deep down she knew she would be paying the favour back twice over. The kids continued their toast, Erin slightly annoyed with her Granda's attempts to not have to spend time with them. Orla was far too interested in the toast to care about it any further. Sarah made her way out to work a couple of minutes later, Orla and Erin seeing her off at the door and noticing the distant figures of James and Michelle up the street. Excitable as ever when she saw her boyfriend, Erin sprinted out of the house, through the gate and onto the street as Orla watched on with an open mouth. Upon seeing her charging at him, James stopped and held out his arms for her to jump into. Erin leapt into them like a salmon going upstream, James squeezing her tightly and easing into a kiss a second later.

"Feck's sake". Michelle mumbled before pretending to choke.

"Ach what Michelle!" Erin moaned at her. "If we want to kiss, we kiss".

"And I want another one". James cheekily whispered and found Erin happy to oblige.

Unwilling to watch the romantic display to her right, Michelle continued and met Orla, who'd stood and watched it herself from the front gate. Orla was wearing a big red coat, one hand in her pocket and the other on a raspberry flavoured lollipop that entertained her taste buds. James and Erin were being far more cringeworthy that normal for Michelle's liking, as James had scooped Erin up and was carrying her back down towards the house and she clung to him, kissing his neck next to where she held him. If she wasn't wearing some of her best clothes, then she would have boked all over the path and in all likelihood herself.

"Not you as well!"

Michelle and Orla turned around to see Joe advancing out of the house, Mary stood at the front door with a look of fury on her face. Michelle didn't need to ask either Orla or Erin to know how the morning had gone so far at the Quinn house. _Badly._

"Morning to ye too Joe". She added with a hint of offence.

"Ye not coming so go home".

She was taken aback by how rude Joe was to her. She knew he could be incredibly rude, especially when it came to Gerry, but Joe wasn't often rude to the any of the kids. She eyed Mary to look for an explanation for his behaviour.

"I'm busy so I am Michelle, so you'll have to go with me Da to see the wee horse".

"What!" She roared. "These are some of me best clothes Mary. I can't go round a filthy farmyard in em!"

"Tough luck love. Either that or I see if my Uncle Colm can look after you's?"

That was a fate that none of them deserved. If Michelle had insomnia then Joe's brother would be the solution, but when she was full of energy then it was a torture she would not put herself through. If Derry held a most boring man contest than Colm would be the winner without a committee vote or a poll of public opinion. The acceptance speech would be something too…

"When I said I wanted to be surrounded by hung young studs all day…"

"Keep it zipped and get in the car!" Joe glared back, halting her further vulgarity.

Trying to be clever, Michelle placed herself on the middle seat at the back, making sure that Erin and James couldn't sit together the whole way to the stables. However, her intuitive move came to nothing when James got in the car and shoved her over to the other seat, Joe chuckling from behind the wheel as he observed it. Gerry never did things like that when he was James's age and that only furthered the affection Joe held for the Englishman. Michelle punched him in the arm for his manhandling, but he brushed it off and was soon far too interested in locking lips with Erin to care for Michelle's protestations.

"Where's fretty Fiona anyway?" Joe asked the four of them.

"Who's Fiona?" Orla looked at her Granda in confusion.

"Granda means Clare, Orla". Erin, resurfacing from James's embrace for air, cleared it up for her cousin. "She's visiting relatives Granda, her ma wouldn't let her miss it".

"Aye. It's probably for the best, can't have her getting spooked by a neigh, can we?" He joked. "Christ that girl could fret enough power for the whole country. She makes Piglet look like Garry feckin' Kasparov!".

"Aye she does like a good worry does our Clare, Granda". Orla nodded.

"Aye". Erin and Michelle voiced their agreements, James nodding too.

Joe soon started the car and pulled out from where he was parked up over the street. With him and Orla waffling on about the strangest variety of topics in front and the pair of lovesick puppies playing a game of swap the saliva to her right, Michelle knew she was in for a long journey.

* * *

Michelle didn't say anything for forty minutes. It was if they'd forgotten she was even in the car at one point. Orla and Joe were debating Oliver Cromwell in the front, Joe as passionate in his hatred for the man as Orla was in her devotion for him. She caught the mention of the Valentine's card and soon zoned out to avoid having to listen to the ridiculous story she'd already heard fifteen times. The lovey-dovey show to her right was no better but she revelled in the chance of elbowing James hard in the back when they went over a speedbump, causing him to wail in pain. That had been the highlight of her journey.

"How much further Granda?" Orla changed the topic from Cromwell to timing.

"About another ten minutes love". He replied.

 _Ten more minutes_. _Eughhhh!,_ Michelle thought to herself.

"Who's this trainer anyway Joe?" She suddenly changed tactic, opting to fill the last part of the journey with conversation.

"Ach, still with us are ye". He chuckled. "I was enjoying the tranquillity of not hearing your foul mouth but there we are…".

Michelle rolled her eyes at Joe. He was being a bit too nasty towards her for her liking and though the latest comment was meant in jest, she began to believe he held an agenda for reasons unknown. But finding out why could wait.

"Frankie Flanagan. His brother's yer History teacher".

That got the attention of everyone in the car. Mr Flanagan had never mentioned a brother before in class, and certainly not a brother who trained racehorses. The four of them were intrigued by the thought of his brother being the trainer of Joe and James's horse and it would at least be a regular talking point in class when they went back after the half term. It could even stop Orla drivelling on about Oliver Cromwell, a thought unknowingly shared between Erin and Michelle along the backseats.

"Flano's brother's training yer horse?" Michelle vocalised what they were all thinking.

"Aye that's right". Joe nodded, looking back in the mirror to make eye contact with Michelle. "I've known Frankie for years so I have and I've met Robert a few times myself. Good people the Flanagan's… always had time for them ye know".

It was hardly a surprise for the gang to learn that the good nature ran in the family. Robert cared for his students and they'd all benefitted from his advice in one way or another. Secretly they were all wishing he would be there too so they could talk to him.

"Now wains, I don't want to sound like a boring old bastard, but I need ye all to be on your best behaviour while we look at our horse".

"Relax Joe, we can look after ourselves on a farm".

"Was I talking to you Mallon?" He snapped back, Michelle pouting and backing off. "Didn't think so. Just don't scare the horses, Frankie trains for some important people ye know, we can't afford the bill if ye get one of their mounts hurt, understood?"

The girls all nodded as James gave the patriarch a friendly smile from his position in the middle seat, Joe smiling back to him. James soon had other matters to attend to as Erin concluded that he'd spent far too much time away from her lips and they were back kissing again, holding each other within the confinements of the seatbelts. Orla opened a pack of pick n mix and got lost in a sweet filled heaven within a few seconds, leaving Michelle to once again fester on her own in the back. Whilst she'd cooled off regarding rule one of her code of practice (accepting she couldn't stop them from kissing in her presence all the time), she spotted the immediate rule two violation when James's hands found Erin's waist. She would be having none of that.

"Oi! Rule two!"

The two of them were still kissing when she tugged at the back of James's shirt, causing her cousin to pull away from Erin and sigh in frustration. Joe held a quivering lip at the scene unfolding behind him, quite amused by Michelle's valiant but ultimately hopeless attempts to stop James and Erin's embraces.

"Ye such a mouth Michelle". Erin huffed, crossing her arms. "Maybe I'll come with ye tomorrow to Danny Scanlon's and we'll see which rules ye break then".

"Danny Scanlon?" A shocked Joe enquired.

"Aye Granda, Michelle's new boyfriend".

"Right".

"He's not my boyfriend!" She hissed at her friend. "We're just enjoying each other's company that's all".

Erin's raised eyebrows and slight head tilt were the perfect storm to create the rarely seen Michelle Mallon blush, Derry's very own Haley's comet. Erin had only ever seen Michelle blush twice in her lifetime. The first time being when they were five years old and Michelle wet herself while they were playing at Clare's house. An understandable blush for a confused five-year-old. The second time was four years later when a boy kissed Michelle on the cheek at a party and long before the outgoing teenage years, the shyer young Mallon glowed violently when it happened. Getting Michelle to blush over a boy could only mean one thing. She actually had proper feelings for him beyond just wanting to ride him.

"I know the Scanlon's too. Danny's a better lad than Scarface". Joe informed them.

"Scarface?" A frowning James asked.

"Aye". Erin continued on from Joe. "Danny's brother Antony. He's been in jail, assaulted some fella outside a club in Belfast. He's out soon I think, nasty piece of work".

"Just because one member of the family is a tool Erin, doesn't mean they all are". Michelle argued. "Look at your Da for example".

Erin scowled at Michelle's taunt about her father and was about to give her friend a more sterner word in reply but Granda Joe beat her to it.

"Oi, mouth young lady! Don't be so hard on the Scanlon fella and start comparing him with Gerry".

Changing her disdain from Michelle to her Granda, Erin stared at him through the mirror and Joe looked back to find Mary's eyes with Erin. They were doing a fine job with her to induce a reaction like that and a part of him softened knowing how much Erin was like her mother. And grandmother. Michelle could at least spend the last couple of minutes of the journey guffawing to herself in the corner. She loved it when Joe took a few pops at Gerry. Minutes later and they were on the mucky path down to the Flanagan stables and the excitement began to build for them all. Apart from her.


	3. Unleashed

**Chapter 3: Unleashed**

After three years, Antony Scanlon was finally free. He'd done the crime alright, even if he'd denied it in court, he was still to this very day proud of beating up the bastard who started talking to his girl. Nobody moved in on Antony Scanlon's girl, the wound on his face that generated his nickname was proof of it, originating from a prior incident where a lad tried to make a move on his girl. That lad needed a wheelchair to get about now.

Walking back through the streets of Derry, Antony allowed himself to reminisce of the times spent around the city. Passing the corner where he won his first fist fight as an eight-year-old, battering another lad into submission to prove his dominance. Then by Dennis's wee shop where he made his first successful drug deal to an old fat bloke in a Jaguar. Every street seemed to have some connection to where he'd made his mark in the past, asserting himself over those weaker than him. In Belfast he was a smaller fish in a bigger pond but back home in Derry, Antony was the shark in the Foyle fish tank.

In prison, he fell somewhere between the two. He was by no means the toughest criminal, or the most well-connected, but he was certainly someone not to mess with. Prison life also opened up a new mindset for him, a level of political intelligence to add to the violent lifestyle he fashioned. He knew what needed to be done now to get the Ireland that he wanted and the first thing he would do after spending some time with his family, would be plan. Plan the next move, a plan to end the suffering of the good Irish people and move on from the generations of hardship. He knew likeminded individuals now, and from his time inside he built a considerable network of contacts in anticipation for his release. The letters from his family were a constant support too. At no point did the Scanlon family give up on their Antony.

He was excited to see his brothers again. Danny and Bryan were both younger than him and still of school age. Both possessed characteristics in line with Antony. Danny may not have been as violent as Antony, but he was cunning like his older brother, with an eye for finding the right opportunity. Brian might have been the youngest, but Antony considered him perhaps the fiercest of all of them. Brian loved a fight and from the letters he received from his mother, Antony learned of at least two exclusions from school for Brian because of his scrapping with other lads. They would both be useful allies in the future.

Walking up towards the family home, Antony's mother already waited by the front door for him and she was in tears as he travelled into her arms.

"Ach ma, it's good to be home".

"Ant…Antony…". She blubbered. "Oh love I've missed ye so much".

"I know ma… I know".

Staying wrapped around his mother for a couple of minutes, Antony relaxed in an embrace discarded long ago. It had been years since he hugged his poor mother and the pair of them held every intention of not being the first to want to pull away from each other. Danny and Brian were soon out behind her and joined in the family hug. They were over the moon to have their brother back from jail. Though they could communicate via letters, it was nothing compared to having him right there in the flesh.

"So good to be back lads.". He stifled the tears to address his brothers.

"We've missed ye Ant". Brian sniffled.

"I know. But you've got me, so you have. I'm sorry I couldn't have picked a better day to come back".

The 13th February marked the six-year anniversary since the death of their father. Joseph Scanlon was a notorious petty thief and troublemaker, and despite always looking after his family, his reputation was of a man of ill repute. On the night of 13th February 1990, Joseph planned to execute one of his lightning burglaries on the house of a local politician. He never made it to the house. They never found out what happened or who perpetrated it, but the following morning his bullet ridden corpse was found in woodland nearby. The bullets were matched to those of the British Soldiers but there was no investigation carried out by any party. His death was simply swept under the carpet. Justice never got served.

"Aye Ant, Danny's got a girl ye know". Brian piped up, elbowing Danny in the side.

"Have ye Danny?" Antony asked. "Never thought I'd see the day…"

"Fuck off". A defensive Danny replied.

"What about yer lass Ant? Ye seeing her later?" His mother enquired with him.

"Aye Ma. But why don't we go inside, I want to hear about this girl that's got wee Danny locked up here".

Antony Scanlon stepped foot in a house he hadn't seen for three years and immediately relaxed. He was home and with a different future ahead of him. But still a violent one.

* * *

Pulling up outside the stables, Joe and James beamed with pride when they spotted their horse in the field off to the left of the entrance. The chestnut galloped around effortlessly, with the same free-spirited approach often attributed to Orla. He was a giant horse, far bigger than the other two horses he shared the field with. He looked every bit the mount that one hundred years earlier may have been used in a Cavalry regiment.

"Smells fuckin' awful". Michelle broke their gazing as she got out the car. "Eugh fucking hell".

"It's a farm Michelle". Erin retorted. "They don't smell like The Body Shop ye know".

Michelle continued to groan and grumble all of the way up to the entrance of the main house. Joe and Orla led the way, Orla bubbling over with excitement and wonder as she took in the sights and smells of the farm. She loved animals and the outdoors and the trip out into the countryside suited her the best of them all. There was so much freedom to be found outside of the city walls and the rigours of everyday life; out in the country she could roam free. She knew how to survive too, picking up plenty of tricks from books and magazines that interviewed experts on how to stay alive in the wild for lengthy periods of time. She loved it.

"Ach morning there Joe!" A voice called out.

Frankie Flanagan appeared from around the side of the house, carrying a clipboard and some binoculars. They weren't twins, but Frankie and Robert were almost identical in appearance. There were a few more grey hairs in the older brother's hair, and he did not wear glasses but that was where the differences ended.

"Morning Frankie! How's things". Joe called back.

"Ach not bad Joe. Didn't know ye were bringing an entourage with ye". Frankie flicked his head in the direction of the kids.

"I got lumped with the girls by my Mary this morning". Joe rolled his eyes, earning an angered look from Erin to his right. "These are my granddaughters, Orla and Erin and over me shoulder there is their friend Michelle".

"Alright". Michelle flicked her head, whilst Erin and Orla opted for small waves.

"And who's the fella?" Frankie pointed at James.

"That Frankie is THE wee English fella". Joe proudly reached out and slapped James on the shoulder, pushing him forward slightly.

"The mysterious co-owner himself". Frankie spoke with a mysterious edge to his voice. "Frank Flanagan son, or Frankie to friends".

"Nice to meet you Frankie. The wee English fella. Or James to friends". He laughed in return.

He offered his hand out to James and James stepped forward further to accept the handshake. Erin held his other hand and found herself moving forward with him to keep the contact. It made for quite the awkward scene to the outside observer.

"Strong hand you've got there James". Frankie commented as they finished the gesture. "You've been workin' on this one haven't ye Joe?"

"Ye know me too well Frankie, too well".

"Aye and yer not the only one who seems to be workin' on him".

Frankie gestured to where James and Erin were holding hands, causing the pair to nervously look into each other eyes and laugh. Erin rested her hand on his chest as they shared their loving gaze and quickly burrowed into his side as his arm came around her. Frankie found it amusing. Michelle not so much.

"For fuck's sake…" Her compliant was barely above a murmur.

"Jealous are we lass?" Frankie, with apparent bat-like senses, addressed her moan.

"No!" She snorted. "He's me cousin and he's a minger".

James had his back to Michelle so he could allow himself an eye-roll, causing further amusement for the trainer as he was compelled to agree. Joe copied James's actions too. Michelle was starting to grind the old man's gears with her moaning. Though he had to thank the Lord that it was her with them and not Gerry, otherwise Joe would have lost it in the car. _Southern shite…_

* * *

Half an hour later, James and Joe were beginning to believe the investment in the horse was a massive mistake. The stable jockey Paul was yet to get the horse over any of the test fences. He would gallop down towards the first one, but the horse would continually either refuse or throw his rider. If the horse didn't want to jump, then it would be of little use to them on the amateur circuit.

"I just don't get it Joe". Frankie admitted. "You've seen him working out in the fields and he's happy as anything but as soon as he gets near to the fences, he doesn't fancy it".

A dismayed Joe bowed his head and huffed. Frankie was a friend and, to pardon the pun, wouldn't flog him a dead horse. Something had to give to make the horse jump.

"Can I have a try?"

Joe shot up from the clump of turf he'd focused on to look incredulously at Orla for her suggestion. He knew she'd ridden a horse, Sarah demanded that Orla have lessons when she wanted them, and Joe stumped up for them at the time. But that was years ago, and controlling a raw young racehorse was different to steering a pony around an enclosure.

"I'm not sure it's safe love". He replied.

"Why not? I reckon I could get him to jump it".

"Huh, ye reckon do ye?" The annoyed Jockey rounded on her from where he stood holding the horse after he dismounted.

"Aye I do!" Orla stood her ground. "Please Granda!"

Instead of giving her an answer, Joe turned his head in the other direction to seek Frankie's counsel on the matter. He was the trainer after all.

"I shouldn't really let her…". He started, eyes flicking over to see Orla's immediate disappointment. "… but I'm out of suggestions".

"YESSSSSSSSSSSS!"

The rest of the gang were happy for Orla and they all gave her a pat on the back, even the grumpy Michelle, in the way of encouragement. The jockey appeared to be disgusted by the decision, trying a silent appeal with Frankie but ultimately being rebuked by a shake of the head. After Orla went into the house and changed into the relevant safety gear, she returned outside and allowing her into the field, Paul kept a tight grip of the horse's reins while she mounted up. He decided to hold them instead of offering Orla a leg up, in the hopes she would be unable to even mount the big horse, therefore ending what he saw as a charade. But Orla mounted up without a hitch and the annoyed Paul almost threw the reins at her as he stormed out of the field.

Starting gingerly, Orla simply trotted the horse around for five minutes or so, with Frankie's guidance ringing in her ears. The others stayed silent to allow Orla to concentrate on only the trainer's words, recognising the need to not cause a scene and distract her. Not that it stopped Michelle from making some quiet conversation with the other two.

"Aye I bet yer jealous Erin". She smirked.

"Why?" Erin, hand squeezing James's, shot up an eyebrow.

"Because Orla's getting to ride the wee English fella".

_Erin should have seen that coming. James should too. Why didn't they see it coming?_

"Honestly!". The couple said in unison.

Michelle giggled to herself, the others turning their attentions back to Orla on the chestnut. She was now getting it into a gallop and with a bit of confidence in the bank from a few minutes riding, she lined him up towards the first fence. Joe was not a very emotional man, but he was a bag of nerves watching his granddaughter charging towards it at speed. He wouldn't live with himself if something happened to her.

Joe didn't need to worry though, for what happened next made every single mouth open wide in amazement, including the pissed off jockey Paul. Guiding the chestnut straight down the middle of the fence, Orla asked him for a huge leap and the horse delivered, launching itself over the fence and landing safely with momentum on the other side. She gave the horse a friendly slap to the neck and shouted in delight, regaining her composure to repeat the feat at the next fence along. No one said a word as she continued on around the little course that ran down the field at the Flanagan farm. At every fence Orla and the horse worked as a team to get to the other side and there was never a danger of her falling off. Paul was the most shocked. He'd spent ages that morning trying to get the big chestnut to jump and then this city girl got aboard and made herself look like the next Richard Dunwoody. HOW!

"She's a natural…". The jockey remarked to Frankie, his voice trailing off.

"Ye never told me she could ride like that Joe". Frankie turned to him.

"She did some lessons a few years back but aye… I'm surprised too".

"I reckon I could make her a star around these parts".

"Ye think so Frankie?" A thrilled Joe quizzed his friend.

"Aye absolutely!"

Before they could discuss Orla's talents any further, she trotted the horse up alongside the edge of the fence to a round of applause from all of them. She was laughing merrily at the applause and was enjoying every minute of it.

"THAT WAS CRACKER!" She bellowed in glee.

"Well done love". Joe congratulated her as she dismounted.

Paul approached from the other side, having let himself into the field to retrieve the horse back from the young McCool's grasp. He gave her a grateful smile, in some ways his own apology for dismissing her earlier, before taking a hold of the reins to steady the horse. As they were all distracted by watching Orla return, none of them saw Michelle scaling the perimeter fence to stand atop it. When they did eventually turn around to see her, she was met with multiple faces of horror, the main worry coming from the jockey.

"Can't be that hard can it?" Michelle smiled.

"Michelle don't!" James forlornly warned her.

He was far too late, and Michelle jumped onto the horses back, the weight landing on the horse causing it to jerk and throw the reins from Paul's grasp. Whilst 'The Wee English Fella' might have responded well to having Orla aboard, the horse didn't approve of having Michelle on top and it began to buck and kick, Paul having to roll to avoid being stood on.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Michelle screamed.

A second later, with no one able to do anything about it, Michelle was launched up in the air and back over the side of the perimeter fence, her feet narrowly avoiding taking James's head off. A hard landing would cause her real damage but luckily for her, a conveniently placed pile of hay cushioned her fall. She disappeared into it, swallowed up in the thick straw pile with another scream. They all rushed over to the straw, James putting his hand in to try and retrieve his fallen cousin. His heart stopped beating at a thousand miles an hour when the feeling of palms registered in his hand. A few groans later and Michelle extracted herself from the hay, spitting out a couple of pieces that were tangled in her mouth before making a comment.

"And that is why I don't ride wee English fella's".

Erin snorted rather loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will get a bit spicier... nothing that requires a rating change but a warning nonetheless :)


	4. The Next Step

**Chapter 4: The Next Step 14** **th** **February 1996**

 _13t_ _h_ _February_

_Well what a day that was. Orla, if you are reading this (which you probably are because you've no respect for my privacy!), I want you to know how proud I am of you. Granda and James were getting so worried about the horse and the way in which you stood up and steadied it was actually quite inspiring. I'm even shedding a tear writing this… I love you cousin!_

_Anyway, as much as we had a bit of a laugh with Michelle falling off and the jockey getting a bit jealous of Orla, my mind has constantly been on tomorrow. Valentine's Day. It will be the first time I go into it with a boyfriend and one that I'm so…so in love with._

_He's being a bit mysterious though. I'm not sure whether I like the fact he won't tell me what we're doing tomorrow or not. It makes me excitable to think what we might get up to… but I don't know how we could manage THAT in a place like this. Even with everything going on tomorrow, we still won't get our moment._

_After removing every last bit of hay from her clothing, Michelle informed everyone (including an unaware James), that there would be a party at theirs tomorrow night. We were all invited, obviously, and Michelle was going to ask Jenny and Aisling to join us too. Granda nearly crashed the car when he heard Michelle saying something positive above Jenny Joyce but I think it's a grand idea seeing as Jenny's been a real solid friend recently. I reckon she'll invite Danny Scanlon too so maybe me and James can turn the tables and tease her for once. Since I decided I would be stealing James for the day, we did a trade so that she could have Orla to help set the party up. A fair trade in my opinion but Michelle moaned that 'Dicko shouldn't get away with doing nothing'. I didn't want to say I'd make sure he got his exercise… Christ! I'm burning up just writing that…_

_She isn't the only one with plans either. Mammy took a phone call from her old friend Roisin and they're meeting up in Omagh tomorrow morning. Granda has offered to drive her so that he can see one of his old work friends, which will keep them out of the house for hours. But Mammy wasn't happy that it would leave me alone in the house with James. I swear sometimes she can read my thoughts… so she's forced Daddy to take the day off work just to babysit me and James so that we don't try any 'funny business'. Daddy being at home also allows her to leave Anna with him and any chance of us taking our relationship to the next step has been ruined! But I need to talk to James about it first I suppose, because I don't even know if he's ready to… you know. Then again, he was with Katya… bitch._

* * *

The duvet was lovely and warm. And it was a good job that it was because that morning, Derry's citizens awoke to a savage frost. It was despicably cold, at least -4 as people woke around six o'clock and cars became ridiculously difficult to defrost. It was too early for Erin and she drifted back to sleep for another hour, retreating to her own little land of dreams, mostly regarding a certain young Englishman. But when she roused again at seven, her room remained just as cold as it had at six, and she quickly decided to leave the covers around her. There was no chance she was getting up when it was that cold and with no school to get up for, she had no reason to be up yet. James would probably be doing the same so he wouldn't be around for at least another hour or two.

James wasn't doing the same.

When the door creaked open, Erin frowned when no one said anything because if it was her mother or her father, they would usually announce their presence. She dropped the frown the moment she realised who it was though. James crept into her bedroom and within seconds her heart was galloping like their bloody horse. She could feel the blood rushing around her body, to places she couldn't afford it to rush to… because she didn't know if she could fight back. There was something about him arriving in her room like that… _It sent her wild…_

The ever practical and gentlemanly James didn't come empty handed and carried up her breakfast on a tray. The smell of the fresh bacon and crisp toast hit her as he closed the door behind him; a daring move on his part.

"Good morning darling". He grinned at her.

"Darling?" She snorted. "Since when did ye call me 'darling'?"

James rolled his eyes and they both giggled. He took the cup of tea off the tray and put it down onto her bedside table, Erin in the meantime sitting up in bed, allowing him to place the tray down onto her lap when he shifted across to her. Bringing his head back up, he received the kiss he had been looking forward to the second he trudged out of bed at five o'clock that morning. Erin was absolutely clueless about him being in her house since half past five that morning, conducting the preparations for their day together.

"I wasn't expecting this". She grinned, looking at her breakfast.

"Oh I'm not done yet".

One of his damned brilliant lopsided grins appeared and the tray shook as Erin's body reacted with feelings she didn't know how to contain. He was making her fall apart and for her own sanity, he needed to stop. However, it appeared that like her mother, James could read her mind, because he did just that by stepping out of the room for a second. It allowed Erin to fix her short-circuited brain and return her body to a state of control that she'd lost for a few seconds. But her heart and the rest of her were soon wrestling away from that control as James stepped into the room again. In his hands were a bouquet of beautiful red roses and box of chocolates.

"Such a romantic". She purred.

"I try my best".

Leaning in for another kiss, he rested the flowers and the chocolates on the other side of the bed, producing a card as well. Erin took the card out his hands and as he pulled back away, kneeling down at the side of her bed, she began to tear away at the envelope. The front of the card was a drawing of two people with incredible similarities to the two of them, holding hands with a heart separating them. A little part of Erin squealed in joy at it; she knew he had gone to great lengths once again to make her feel as if she was the most special girl in the world. Which she was, of course.

Inside the card, she read his message.

_To my beautiful Erin,_

_I know of the two us you are the poet, but I have three important words you need to read._

_**I love you** _

_You are the last thing I think of before I close my eyes at night, you are the basis of all of my best dreams and when I wake up in the morning, you are always on my mind._

_You are everything to me._

_From the depths of my heart, I love you._

_Your Wee English Fella xxx_

In the Hollywood romance she created in her head when she was ten years old, a boy would write her a card like this, and she would cry with happiness. Growing up in Derry taught her that it could never be the way she dreamt it those years before and she'd sadly accepted that truth. Yet her she was living the dream with a boy who fitted the description of the handsome, dashing young gentleman she hoped for at ten. The tears falling completed the dream.

"Ye silly fella, yer making me cry".

James's soft laughter rang in her ear and a second later they were wrapped in an embrace, James gently nipping at back of her neck as she wept onto his shoulder. Feeling a rush of confidence from his beautiful words, she moved back slightly to be in line with his ear.

"You can get in ye know".

It was James's turn to lose control of his body. He'd seen her previous attempts at seduction and it was fair to say they were a train wreck, but the effortless glide that her words seem to take as they drifted into his ear sent waves of emotion all around him. _Control James… control!_

"As much as I'd love to". He whispered into her ear before they pulled out of the embrace. "I promised your mum that I'd be back down within ten minutes. And for both of our sakes, I don't want to find out what she might do with the wooden spoon if I'm not".

Erin creased up at the thought of James being chased around her room by her mother, wooden spoon wielded like a battle-axe, ready to cut him down. As funny as it would be, she probably wouldn't be allowed to see him again and that certainly wasn't what she wanted. Sighing in resignation, she nodded, and he stood up and made his way to the door. Stopping just in front of it, he looked back at her over his shoulder.

"I'll be back though".

His alluring words and another one of his lopsided grins, and Erin again lost all control of her feelings. She could only thank the Lord that James was on his way out of the room because there was no way he would forgive her if James hadn't.

* * *

James made it back downstairs with a few moments to spare, Mary sheathing her wooden spoon for another day. In reality, she wouldn't have had the time to discipline him if he'd not made the time limit, because she had to leave in the next few minutes in order to get to Omagh on time. An inpatient Joe was already outside in the car waiting with Sarah, who they would drop off at work on their way out of the city and Orla, who'd be dropped off at the Mallon house.

"Have you got ye purse Mary?" Gerry questioned gently from the living room, as she rushed about in the kitchen.

"Yes Gerry. Christ… do ye have to ask me about the purse every single time I go anywhere".

Gerry shared a look of disbelief with the Englishman sat to his side. Both of them remembered the camping trip the year before and the distressing scene of Mary trying to find her missing purse. They also remembered her distinct instruction on the way home to always remind her about it before she went anywhere. Mary's memory didn't seem to stretch that far, not that either of them were willing to bring it up to her.

"Gerry!" She shouted.

"Yes love". He replied, walking towards her position in the kitchen.

"You keep your eye on the wains. I don't want any funny business going on in this house, so you better be on their case every five minutes, ye hear me". She dropped her voice so that James wouldn't hear them

"Relax love". He sighed back. "They're just kids".

"I will not relax!" She stood her ground, adamant in her beliefs. "They've got their whole lives ahead of them for that… I don't want anymore additions to this family yet".

"Mar…"

"I said no Gerry!" Mary raised her voice.

James wondered what they were on about hearing her shouting at Gerry, but it wasn't usual to find the two of them scrapping whilst he was at the house, so he thought no more of it. His thoughts were focused on a different member of the house entirely but if he shared them with Mary and Gerry then he would be experiencing his final breaths. Those thoughts were ones that could not be aired but could be enjoyed in his head.

"Bye James love". Mary called out to him as she passed.

"Bye Mary, have a good time with your friend".

"Thank ye son".

Gerry walked with her to the door, Mary stopping at the bottom of the stairs, shouting up to Erin to tell her she was going, her daughter wishing her a goodbye from behind the closed door of her bedroom. Walking out into the cold air of the morning, Mary pulled on her gloves, turning back to Gerry who stood shivering at the door in just a shirt and jeans.

"I mean it about those two Gerry".

"Alright love!" He responded in an aggravated tone. "You've made the point very clear".

Giving her a peck on the cheek, Gerry caught sight of Joe through the car window, scowling at him and flipping him the bird. A beautiful sight in early morning Derry. Mary soon got into the car and they left in the direction of the Mallon house, with Gerry earning himself one more showing of Joe's middle finger before they disappeared out of view. Some things never changed.

* * *

"That's a lot of bottles Michelle".

Orla's remarks were completely true. Michelle had acquired a scary amount of alcohol for this party and the shed in their back garden was practically full to the brim of it. Orla admired the pretty colours of each crate, the various brands having entertaining colour schemes that captivated her.

"Well, I've invited half of fuckin' Derry Orla, can't have them going thirsty".

"Aye that is true. I wonder what Erin and James are doing".

"Ha!" Michelle laughed aloud. "Not a lot, Gerry's probably got them playing Monopoly or Guess Who".

"Monopoly I reckon Michelle, Aunt Mary said we can't play Guess Who again after what happened with Uncle Gerry and Granda at Christmas".

Michelle nodded, completely in agreement with Mary's logic when it came to anything regarding the two bickering males. From out the back they heard the doorbell go and the two of them raced through the house, ignoring the need for quiet as Deidre slept upstairs following another night shift. Opening the door, Michelle was correct in the thought that shot into her head the moment the doorbell rang. Jenny and Aisling were stood outside. _Michelle had a card!_

"Morning Jenny, Aisling".

"Good Morning Michelle!" Jenny spoke in her usual cheery tone.

"Morning!" Aisling sounded chipper herself.

"I'm a lucky girl then". Michelle flicked her hair back dramatically, smacking Orla right in the eye with her hand as she bought it down. "Oh shit, sorry Orla".

"No bother Michelle, no bother". Orla replied, rubbing the eye.

"I'm glad we've caught the two of you here, saves us a trip up to Orla's house to give this to her as well".

Jenny reached into the bag and Michelle nearly keeled over in shock when it was revealed that someone wrote Orla a card. Unless James had done it in the hope of some fucked up threesome, the English did have some strange habits, she couldn't work out who it could be. Erin had told her about the Oliver Cromwell card but as far as Michelle was aware, there weren't any boys in Derry called Oliver Cromwell. Realistically there shouldn't have been any boys named Oliver Cromwell in Ireland at all. It was not the sort of name you could flaunt on the Western side of the Irish Sea and expect to live to tell the tale.

"Did ye get my card to Oliver?" A hopeful Orla asked.

"We did indeed Orla". Jenny confirmed, Michelle's eyes widening. "And he wanted us to give you this card in return. He couldn't make it to put in the collection in time but he begged us to give it to ye so he did and we couldn't say no".

Aisling's overbearing nodding mesmerised Orla but it didn't convince Michelle and she frowned at the two girls stood at her doorstep. _What the fuck was going on…_

"But". Aisling added. "He said that ye have to open it on your own, away from the rest of us. He was very specific about that wasn't he Jenny?"

"He was indeed". Jenny corroborated Aisling's story.

Orla snatched the card out of Jenny's hand and ran off in the direction of the back garden of Michelle's house, her heart pounding. Oliver Cromwell had written a card back to her. She was worthy of him and nothing made her happier than to have the confirmation of it in written form. Michelle stood aghast in the doorway, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Cromwell died hundreds of years ago, there was no way he could have actually wrote Orla a Valentine's card. The only way it could have been done is if…

The light bulb flicked on. Of course.

"You… got her a card and…".

"Yep. I didn't want to see her feelings get hurt and I thought it would be helpful to get a card and Aisling picked out a perfect one when I told her".

At a total loss for words, Michelle's mouth simply fell open with the surprise of what the two girls had done for Orla. She would be completely heartbroken if she'd got nothing back in return from the long dead Statesman, but the two girls recognised that and did something about it. That showed true class and… _friendship?_

"Thank ye. Both of ye. That's proper class what you've done like".

"It was nothing". Jenny attempted to brush the praise off.

"No really Jenny. I know my lot haven't seen eye to eye with the two of ye in the past but perhaps we can let the past stay like that?" Michelle searched the two of them.

Jenny and Aisling could tell Michelle that any hopes of friendship were beyond salvation and she couldn't exactly complain about it. After all, most of the bitter resentment came from her side and not theirs, they were just trying to get by in life living by the rules and not breaking them like the gang did. But neither Jenny or Aisling wished to continue hostilities, and both smiled to accept a cessation in any further conflict between them.

"Here's your card Michelle". Aisling smiling again whilst handing it over.

"Thanks. Hey look, I'm having a wee get together here tonight. If you's want to come then I'd be happy to have ye".

She'd already planned on asking them anyway, but Michelle couldn't quite believe the words fell so easily from her mouth when she did. Being friendly to Jenny and Aisling felt far too easy. Far too easy.

The two girls both said they'd need to check with their parents, but all being well they accepted the invite warmly. Michelle waved them off before shutting the front door and sitting down on the sofa to open the card. The thought of who it could be from quickly entered her mind. The logical choice was Danny Scanlon but Michelle was the hottest girl in Derry so it could be any lad. It was somewhat surprising there was only one. That was what she thought anyway. The card was covered in glitter, with a little bear on the front of it holding a love heart and the sky appeared to be raining little love hearts too. She opened it up.

_Love?_

_Do you feel it too?_

_I hope you do…_

_Your secret Admirer._

It was short and… shit… that was her first honest thought. She was expecting something a bit more solid than a couple of questions and hoped that the admirer would out themselves instead of hiding. But there was something else about the card that caught her attention.

The handwriting.

She recognised the handwriting. Recognised it because she saw it often. It certainly wasn't the handwriting of Danny Scanlon as she had never seen anything he'd wrote before. She knew exactly who it belonged to.

_What the fuck…_

* * *

James slouched out on the Quinn's sofa. After being up at five, he'd barely stopped in an effort to make Erin's morning as perfect as possible, but he wanted to in order to conserve a bit of energy. He would soon have to get up again to retrieve the tray from Erin's room, so he enjoyed the couple of minutes to himself. Gerry was busying himself tidying up the kitchen after breakfast, the rest of the house having vacated without any attempt at clearing up. Little Anna sat in her chair at the table and every so often would give James a little wave and he would smile and wave back to her.

"SHITE!"

Gerry's sudden shout of profanity made him jump out of his skin on the sofa.

"What is it Gerry?" He quizzically called out from the living room.

"Shit! Shit!"

Gerry's continued swearing became a bit of a concern to James and he roused himself from the relaxed spot on the sofa to investigate. Moving through to the kitchen, James found him with his head in hands, fingers running through the hair he had left.

"Mary's missed Anna's check up at the doctors. It's today".

"Ah".

"She'll go mental if we miss it". Gerry fretted.

It wasn't like Mary to overlook a detail like that. Other than the Turkey, which James put down more to the Gerry/Joe conflict making practical conversation impossible, he'd never seen Mary miss a trick. Being a recipient of the wooden spoon treatment, he was well aware of the consequences of Anna's appointment being missed. It was serious.

"Shit!" Gerry swore again before marching off towards the stairs. "Erin!"

James followed him to the bottom of the stairs but at a slight distance, unable to keep up with Gerry's furious pace.

"Erin!" Gerry called again.

James heard the door opening and the shuffling of feet, and on looking up, the now dressed Erin stood at the top of the stairs. She was wearing almost identical clothes to him which made him soften and almost liquify. Denim jacket and jeans with white shirts on underneath, they were the spitting image of each other.

"What is it Da?" Erin frowned.

"Anna's got an appointment at the doctors in twenty minutes. Your mother… forgot".

Erin's frown remained. Like James, she couldn't think of a time where her mother would have carelessly forgotten an important detail like a doctor's appointment. She wasn't convinced that her father was telling the truth.

"Ma forgetting something like that… wise up Da". She scoffed.

"Erin I'm serious. Your mother will kill me if the doctors ring to find out why Anna missed her check-up. If I go now, we'll make it just about on time".

Erin continued to frown and turned her attention to James, whose nod and sincere expression began to change her view. There was no way they would both lie to her about it and when she looked back at Gerry again and found him to be running his hands through his hair, she recognised his sign of stress.

"But I need your word that the two of you will act responsibly".

Gerry addressed the question to the couple, his eyes flicking between the two and narrowing on James. It was a straight to the point question and Gerry wasn't hiding the meaning behind the words. Erin knew from her mother's outburst at the dinner table the night before that nothing along those lines would be allowed in the house. Reluctantly, they had no choice but to agree.

"Good. Right I best get Anna's coat on".

"How long do you think you'll be Gerry?" An interested James asked.

"Probably a good couple of hours son. But don't worry, I should be back to get the two of you some lunch".

Nodding his appreciation, James made his way up the stairs after Erin, who'd retreated back into her room after accepting her father's terms. He waited at the top of the stairs, waving a goodbye to Gerry and Anna as they rushed out of the house to his car. When the front door shut, the wry smile dared to edge out across his lips.

* * *

Erin waited for the front door to shut before she stopped tensing. She couldn't really work out why she was tensing anyway because more than anything she was baffled. _Mammy would never forget an appointment like that…_

James soon joined her in the room, shutting the door behind him, beaming at his girlfriend from the door but changing expression when he caught the look on her face.

"I don't get it James". She threw her hands in the air. "Mammy would never miss an appointment like that. Never!".

"I wouldn't worry about it…".

"Don't worry?!" She almost shouted at him. "Daddy might have a fancy woman James. He might be… conductin' an illicit affair right under Mammy's nose and now we're complicit in it!"

He couldn't help but laugh at her ridiculousness in return. Earning himself a rare look of disapproval from Erin didn't stop him either and he was in a real fight to stop himself. Erin slapping him on his wrist was the catalyst for change as she caught him cleanly and it stung his skin.

"Ow!"

"Ach grow up!" She complained in return. "I'm being serious James! These are my parents we're talking about… this could ruin our house…".

"Erin". He interrupted her, resting his hands on her shoulders to draw her attention to his face. "Do you really think your dad would risk Joe's wrath to take a mistress? I doubt it".

He watched as that thought went through the passage of procession in Erin's head. He saw the moment she realised he was talking more sense than her and felt her body ease under his hands. The expression on her face softened too; His Erin was back and not the over-dramatic, borderline neurotic Erin that the rest of Derry knew.

"I… guess not". She finally uttered.

The much calmer Erin frowned after finishing her words as James held a frown of his own that she couldn't understand. She'd just given him the answer he wanted, so why did he still look confused? Was that not the answer he wanted?

"What?"

"I'm still confused". James admitted.

"About what!?" She challenged.

"About why you felt the need to get dressed".

_Wha… oh… OH!_

The atmosphere in the room went from a tepid confusion to a fully heated sauna on the surface of the sun. James did not hold back the allure and desire in his voice. He was almost… husky. Consequently, Erin's brain went into overdrive.

_For feck sake words, where are ye? I can drivel on about the beautiful sun kissed mornings and the wet and dreary evenings on paper, but now I need ye in real life… WHERE ARE YE?_

"Er…".

"I… erm". James stood awkwardly, almost tripping over his own feet and scratching the back of his neck. "If you don't want to then its fine but".

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved something that Erin hadn't seen for a while. In fact, she'd only seen them once in her life; in Katya's bag.

Condoms. REAL ACTUAL CONDOMS! The ones she once believed to be illegal in Derry. Erin recognised herself to be a blonde rabbit caught in the beam of two latex headlights. She wanted to breach the subject with him lightly, but he beat her to it and she chastised herself for thinking he would want to talk. James was a man of action, not a man of words.

"Sorry I've gone too far…". The slightly crestfallen Englishman moved his hand back down to put them back into his pocket.

"NO!" She cried, jumping forward into him and knocking him back slightly.

"Oh… okay…".

"How did you…?" The confusion level only increased for Erin.

"There are…". James stopped to clear his throat. "… things that I cannot unsee in Michelle's room, but I found these in there and… well I just thought that now we have an empty house…".

Stepping back away from him, Erin fidgeted with her hands. This wasn't a situation she envisaged when she got up that morning, at least not in realistic terms, and now she struggled. Her knees were weak, James's deeper… _much deeper…_ voice was sending her emotions to heights they'd never scaled. Her heart was racing. Her palms were sweating. Breath was catching in her throat…

"So erm… how did you want to…".

James was shitting bricks. He expected to be declined and had made his peace with having to wait for another day, which gave him time to… psych himself up a bit more. But she wanted to. And now his knees were weak, and his heart set a relentless beating rhythm that threatened to rip his chest in half. His palms were sweating, and he found any further words getting caught in the back of his throat like fish in a net.

"Well I… erm... maybe if ye take your… jacket off and… I take mine…".

"Right…".

The floor soon received two denim jackets to its collection.

"Now what?"

"I… I don't know James!"

"Ok Ok… sorry!" He apologised in an ungainly manner. "Maybe we lose the shirts?"

"Yes!... I mean… yes. And then the jeans?"

"Erm… yeah… I…. I don't know Erin ok! It's not like there's a manual for this or I'd have read it!"

"Christ alright I'm sorry!" It was Erin's turn to apologise.

Despite the slight argument, the garments began to pile up on the floor of her room. In sophisticated, neat piles rather than a clumsy mess of discarded clothes. They certainly didn't practice folding in adult films. Although adult films didn't focus on explanations for creases in jackets like Mary Quinn did.

Soon the two of them were left in only their underwear.

"Now what?" Erin, nervously folding her arms across her chest, asked him.

James's eyes became mischievous and the internal control Erin had wrestled with all day broke beyond the point of return. She stumbled slightly and cursed herself in her head. _For feck's sake Erin, yer not Bambi on feckin ice!..._

But she needn't have worried. James was ready to catch her. When their skin touched, it was as if she had been thrown right into the local power station and took every volt. Her body tried to rebel and jump away but James's did not, and he held her in place. With those eyes and that lopsided grin… Erin couldn't take much more…

"I think I've seen enough Bond films to know what to do next".

"What do ye m…."

_Oh James…._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surely not... right? You'll have to wait and see in Chapter 5 :)


	5. Bokeorama

**Chapter 5: Bokeorama**

Clare didn't expect to receive a Valentine's card, so her morning went as it normally would when they weren't at school. She got up around half past eight, her parents both long gone to work, and pottered about the house for half an hour. Consuming some toast and a cup of tea, she sat at the dining table pondering her plans. Michelle's phone call at eight the night before decided the latter half of the day, but she still had hours to kill until then. But then there was the matter of the card.

She could get a phone call after it was received.

She knew the handwriting would be recognised… there was no way it wouldn't be. They spent a lot of time together after all.

God should have made her differently and then she would be forward and confident about her feelings but that was his decision and Clare resigned herself to it. _By Christ it could be awkward though…_

After ten minutes of stewing, Clare returned to the top floor of her house to have a shower and get ready to go out. Staying indoors and festering on the 'what if's' could hardly constitute a good Valentine's Day. No, she would go out. Michelle didn't mention that she needed any help to organise the party, but Clare knew that if left to plan anything on her own, she'd just drink all the booze and be asleep by the time the first guest turned up. Gleaning from Michelle that Erin and James would be spending the day together, it only left Orla to help and that wouldn't improve the planning situation. At least if she gave a hand then it wouldn't be a total disaster of an evening.

By the time she was showered and dressed, Clare noted the time being just after ten. She tried to calculate how many drinks Michelle could have consumed already that morning in her head, but the numbers were frankly too scary to continue to dwell on. After the wispy nip of the early morning air receded, the sun came out and the temperatures became manageable for once. The winter was being spoken of as one of the worst in recent memory. The snow at Christmas and then the February flurries were a part of it, but the real problem had been the icy mornings. Some mornings getting up for school became more of a chore than the actual lessons themselves. Walks to and from the bus stop were treacherous, Clare remembering well the morning that Orla slid down a hill and straight into a bush at the bottom. How she came out of the prickly bush without so much as a tear in her eye confused the diminutive blonde to this day.

Approaching the Mallon house, Clare spotted empty crates outside in the front garden and her suspicions about Michelle's sobriety were validated. Expecting to find the odd smashed bottle in the garden, it did surprise her that only the crates and a gnome adorned the Mallon lawn. _Perhaps I'm judging a book by its cover…_ Clare thought to herself.

Reaching up to ring the doorbell, the door flew open and the sudden movement scared Clare so much that she stumbled back off the step and nearly fell straight into one of the crates. Her heart sprang from her chest for a brief second, only returning to its natural state when she steadied on her feet.

"It's Clare!" Orla, the culprit behind opening the door, shouted back inside.

"Jesus Orla! Did ye have to open the door so viciously".

"Well… aye! Ye might have been a burglar or a Provo, Clare. I can't be takin' those chances, can I?"

Clare went to remind Orla of how stupid that would sound but was distracted by Michelle thundering through the gap she left in the door with a look of pure fury in her eyes.

"Morning Mich…".

"WHAT THE FUCK CLARE!?"

"I'm sorry?" Clare shrivelled up in fear and confusion.

"What the fuck is this!?" Michelle dropped her voice down to her natural pitch so the whole street did not tune into their exchange.

"A… card?" The perplexed Clare replied.

"A card? A Card? Fuckin' hell Clare, this is a declaration of love!"

Clare looked to Orla for any hints of what Michelle was getting at, but Orla was busy looking up into the sky as a group of pigeons went overhead in a V formation.

"Look Clare, I'm flattered but ye know… I don't swing that way. I'm all for a cuddle like but I'm not going beyond that…".

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ON ABOUT MICHELLE!" Clare angrily hissed and that certainly was heard by most of the street, a couple of old ladies peering out from closed curtains to watch the commotion.

"What!? Have you gone fuckin' mental? The card ye dose!"

"Give me that!" Clare demanded as she pulled the card and its envelope from Michelle's grasp.

Clare furiously gazed at the familiar picture and deep from the pit of her stomach, a groan rumbled. Her heart dropped when she realised that it was indeed the card she wrote and put into the collection box. But how had it got to Michelle? She wasn't the intended recipient of the card… Was Jenny Joyce playing a sick joke on them to ruin their friendship…by altering the destination of the card? Jenny's recent change in attitude to the group could at least be explained. Lulling them all into a false sense of security to then deliver a killing blow that could blow their group apart. But it didn't sound like something Jenny would do. And on looking at the envelope, she was proven very much correct.

"ORLA!" She screeched.

"What?" Orla, no longer looking at the pigeons but focusing on a Dip Dab instead, spoke back.

"I said Mikayla! MIKAYLA!".

"Ach right ye. I didn't know how to spell her name, so I wrote Michelle instead".

Clare and Michelle performed synchronised huffs and arm throws as the misunderstanding's root cause unravelled itself in front of them.

"Why the fuck did ye leave it to Orla?" Michelle turned on Clare.

"Because I got nervous!"

"You're always fuckin' nervous, how's that possible!".

"I just did! Ok?! Thanks Orla, I've blown my chance with Mikayla now and my day's ruined".

Clare began to sob in front of her two friends. Orla wasn't quite sure why Clare was getting so angry with her or why she was crying. She'd done what was asked of her, it wasn't her fault that she didn't know how to spell the other girl's name. Michelle, in attempt to be sympathetic, leant forward to give Clare a hug but she was pushed away by her friend, who'd transitioned into a full wailing cry.

"Clare". Michelle's voice was improbably soft. "Ye haven't blown your chance. I don't want this to sound harsh but it's not like Derry's got a carousel of lesbians to choose from. If Mikayla is… ye know, then why not try talking to her next week at school".

"I…" Clare sniffed, wiping her eyes before looking up at Michelle. "I don't know Michelle. I don't know what to say when I'm sat next to her in class… I thought the card would…".

"Then I'll help ye".

"I'm not you Michelle! I can't just make jokes about fannies and talk about sex. I'm not-".

"You don't need to be me Clare". Michelle put a hand on her arm. "Ye just need to calm your tits for five minutes and relax. Trust me".

Clare's tears stopped and Michelle returned to her a minute later with some kitchen roll for her to wipe her eyes with. It was only then that Clare took note of Michelle and Orla both wearing coats and indicated with a dip of her head that she wished to know why.

"I broke the bottle opener. Orla said Mary's got loads so we're off to get one".

"And we can find out what James and Erin are doing". Orla spoke like a hardened detective.

"What?" Clare, slightly horrified at the immediate thought in her head, interjected.

"Wise up Clare!" Michelle smirked. "Gerry's there with them, the closest they'll get to any physical activity is playing catch in the back garden".

* * *

They lay back side by side on Erin's bed.

Panting.

That was the only noise other than the radio which James had leant over and turned on.

Their hands stayed locked together, unwilling to relinquish the full contact between them. This would be a moment that would define their lives. A certain rite of passage completed… an experience shared together with no one in the world to know it occurred. James might have been the bravest man ever seen in Derry. An Englishman who'd just made love to Erin Quinn right under her parent's noses without a hint of suspicion. _None of them could accuse him of being gay now…_

"Well…" Erin started, still trying to catch her breath.

"Yeah…". James too was still attempting to regulate himself.

Their nervous giggles a moment later emphasised just how much the situation they were in was alien to them. Shuffling whilst continue their laughter, they found themselves on their sides, nose to nose and irises searching their counterparts lovingly.

"That was… erm… well I don't know the words really". James laughed.

"Beautiful… passionate…".

"Definitely passionate". He chirped.

That earned him a smack on his arm but not one that hurt, just a playful tap to remind him of his place. He didn't mind that when he got to tickle her back and her body wriggled under him as his hands explored it.

"Stop it you". She chuckled.

"Make me".

That was a challenge she willingly accepted and rolled back on top of him and put her lips onto his, cutting off any further talking. He wrapped his hands around her back and matched her passion in the kiss. This was what he wanted the rest of his life to be. Lazy mornings rolling around with Erin, laughing and loving. He only needed one taste to know that's how he wanted it to be. Erin wanted that as well. She too only needed the one experience to want the rest of her life to be like this with him. And only him.

* * *

Michelle, Clare and Orla took the walk to the Quinn house steady. They were in no rush really as Michelle and Orla had cracked on with the rest of the preparations surprisingly well that morning before Clare showed up. The crying from Clare ceased quickly once they'd set off and they fell into the regular pattern of jokes and banter. Most of them being at James or Erin's expense as the two of them were absent.

"So Molly's gone to Scotland?" Orla raised the question from Michelle's latest point.

"Aye, gone to have her wain in shame".

"I still can't believe it". Clare commented.

"It's fucked up I know. Doyley never said about Billy but I bet he won't be let off the farm for fuckin' months".

"I wouldn't mind being on a farm for months". Orla pointed out.

"Ye of course ye wouldn't Orla". Michelle sniggered. "Ye sharin' any of that pick n mix or what?"

Orla reluctantly let the other two put a hand into the bag and have some of her sweets but forced Michelle to show her palm to make sure she wasn't taking too many. Michelle was a repeat offender when it came to that.

"Have you invited Danny then Michelle?" Clare questioned.

"Yeah". She answered a little distantly. "If we are going to be… ye know… official… then he needs to get used to being around you's".

Michelle having a serious boyfriend was a surprise to Clare. She was only just learning to adjust to James and Erin being a couple and now Michelle was talking about a proper relationship. Clare thought her behaviour when it came to boys would be at a state of incorrigibility that could never be changed but she was being proven to be wrong. Michelle wasn't joking, her feelings for Danny were strong.

"Can I show him my knives?".

"Ha! His brother is Scarface Scanlon Orla, I'm sure he's seen plenty of knives".

"But he hasn't seen my knives has he!"

"There trouble those Scanlon's". Clare huffed. "Be careful Michelle".

"Danny's the good one Clare. Just because his brother's a fuckin' psycho doesn't mean he is".

Clare hummed an agreement with her instead of arguing. She still thought it was dangerous when it came to Danny but if Michelle was happy then she wouldn't be doing anything to derail what they had together. All of a sudden, Clare was pulled from her thoughts as Michelle stuck her arms out in front of her and Orla, bringing them to a stop.

"What is it?" Clare fretted slightly.

"Look". Michelle pointed to the spot outside the Quinn house. "Where the fuck's Gerry's car?"

"Maybe they've gone out". Orla theorised.

"Aye". Clare agreed with her in turn. "Mr Quinn's a nice man… he's probably taken them for lunch or something like that".

Michelle wasn't buying it one bit. Orla and Clare might have been happy to think Gerry being generous was the obvious answer, but she knew they'd have forgotten the added factor of the day. It was Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day and the only adult in the house's car was missing from outside the front. James and Erin might be alone in that house. Michelle, like almost everyone in Derry, didn't trust the English.

* * *

"We'll have to get up soon".

James's resigned sigh fluttered into Erin's ear as she lay on top of him. His fingers traced the curve of her spine in a gentle rhythm, a relaxing melody for her body to become attuned to.

"I know". She sighed in return.

Rolling off her boyfriend, Erin sat up instead of lying back down and looked at the neat piles of their clothes on the floor. She still couldn't really explain, even to herself, why they felt the need to have them so neat. Mary always insisted that the clothes were but that would have hardly been on the top of her agenda if she was to walk in and find them in the position they were currently in. And when it came to that, Mary's instructions regarding 'funny business' were very clear. _Christ, imagine if she did walk in…_ Erin thought to herself.

_Mary's mouth would probably hang open._

_Erin would start crying_

_James would probably try to find his pants and any other clothes he could in a vain attempt to make it seem innocent._

_Mary would then almost certainly call Gerry and Joe in to deal with James._

_Erin would be dragged from the bed kicking and screaming._

_James would either go out the window or be launched into the street…_

The gentle fingers caressing the chain of her necklace, the one that matched the necklace adorning his neckline, broke her away from the nightmare she was dreaming of. The added kisses to the back of her neck didn't help her composure and the tidal waves of pleasure Erin believed to have expunged, washed in with a shiver.

"What are you thinking about". He mumbled as he nipped away.

"Just…" She had to stop as his nipping threatened to make her fall apart again. "… if Mammy found us, what she'd do to us".

James opted for ceasing the little bites he was placing on her neck and instead shifted so that he was behind Erin, wrapping her into a hug and pressing into her back.

"Don't". He whispered. "That's a nightmare we don't need".

Being young, carefree and a bit stupid, the happy couple could only think to break out into laughter at his words. James was correct in his hypothesis when it came to Mary but there was something in the way that he said it that amused them both. It was as if Mary walking in on them would be a sketch out of a comedy and the two of them would be the idiotic young lovers caught out. It was all just a big joke to them because they knew they wouldn't be caught. Erin couldn't even remember the reason why her father and Anna left so suddenly, and she didn't really care either.

"We'll need to shower James". She spoke in a slightly reserved manner.

"I know. You or me first?" He beamed as he bought his head around to the side, looking into her eyes.

"Funny ye should say that". It was Erin's turn to be husky. "I've had this theory when it comes to our shower".

"Erm… ok". Instead of the macho act she wished for, James responded dorkily.

"That it's actually big enough to fit two".

Already annoyed from his failure to act all macho, Erin felt a little dismayed when he said nothing and instead just tried to register what she was insinuating. _Jesus Christ! We've just had sex and ye can't pick up on my little hints… come on James!_

"Oh". The realisation hit him harder than Mary would if she found him in his present state. "I see. And might we test this theory?"

Finally he got it. Erin breathed a sigh of relief and in the absence of the right words, she beckoned him to follow her with a wink, raising herself from the bed. Connecting their hands, she led him out of the room and across to the hallway. Neither bothered to cover themselves for the walk across to the shower.

And the house of cards came tumbling down.

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

_Michelle… MICHELLE HAD SEEN THEM._

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH".

Erin screamed and pushed James back through the door, the Englishman tripping up and falling backwards onto the floor. Erin shut the door behind them. She was bright red and looking down at James, they two of them shared a panicked look. _SHIT!_

* * *

She knew it.

She fucking knew it!

That dirty English bastard!

An empty house, alone with Erin, of course the English fucker had gone and shagged her. Michelle was raging. Raging beyond belief. Rule three was not there to broken. She'd never thought of what to do if they did; there was no lacerating punishment like she imagined Mary would have ready.

Clare wasn't much use either. The moment the naked figures of their friends appeared at the top of the stairs, the lights went out in Clare's head and she fell face first onto the stairs. Orla, misinterpreting her fainting for diving practice, launched herself headfirst into the wall of the stairs and promptly knocked herself out, falling on top of Clare. As she expected, Michelle was left to deal with the two eejits herself.

Storming up the stairs, the floorboards groaning as she stomped over them, the thought entered her head that maybe she didn't want to see inside Erin's room. She didn't want to see either of them without clothes on ever again, that was for damn sure.

"Open the door ye pair of feckers!" She smacked her open palm onto it when it wouldn't budge.

"ERIN! OPEN THE FUCKIN' DOOR!"

"Go away Michelle!" She cried back.

"Fuck no!". She tried again to open it, the door this time opening slightly, and she realised James must have been behind it to hold it in place. "Dicko! I am going to rip yer bollocks off and throw them in the Foyle… OPEN THE DOOR!"

"Piss off Michelle, leave us alone!"

"Oh no! NO NO NO! You feckers ain't getting away with this".

"Michelle!" Erin cried again

"Don't stall the ball on me Erin! You and Thomas the Wank Engine are in for it!"

Taking a step back and performing a spontaneous sign of the cross, Michelle drove her shoulder into the door and this time James couldn't hold her back. The force knocked him back into the wall and Michelle heard his pathetic wail of pain as she tumbled into the room. Michelle herself only just held her feet and gaining a firmer footing, she looked up to find the teary-eyed Erin staring back. She'd managed to get her underwear and a shirt on, but her bare legs shook with a trembling fear, the hairs standing on end. Looking to her left, James only managed to cover the bottom half, his Jeans on but missing a shirt and Michelle wanted to boke looking at his chest. Trying to find a point to focus on other than her half-naked friends, Michelle's boke went to full bokeorama when she caught sight of the condom… the used condom.

"YOU… DIRTY… DIRTY… BASTARD!"

Her fist clenched and the red mist descended. She swung straight at James, a hooked punch destined for his jaw in the hope of taking a few teeth with it. But James's goalkeeping ability came to his aid as he caught the punch destined for him at the base of her wrist and held it in place. The undeterred Michelle attempted to use her left hand but he was ready for her there too and held her wrists together in front of face. A face of pure fury.

"Get off me ye fuckin' prick!"

"Not until you've calmed down".

"CALMED DOWN?!" She screamed back. "I WON'T CALM DOWN UNTIL YE FUCK OFF OUT OF HERE!"

"Well I'm not going anywhere! So I suggest you stop being a fucking child and grow the fuck up!" James roared back.

"Fuck off ye curly haired shite! Just because you've-" She stopped when he looked away and then hurried away from her. "OI!"

James escaped her tirade because he looked to his left and saw what their argument was doing to Erin. Tears were streaming downing her face and James never wanted to see her crying like that ever again. He was to blame… if only partly… and he had to do something about it. Erin almost fell into him as she began to wail, weeping onto his bare chest, squeezing him tightly. She refused to look at Michelle. James stood fighting to control his own rage. If Michelle were a man, he would have no hesitation but to punch her into the next millennium. No one made Erin cry on his watch. No one. Not even Michelle.

"See what you've done". He seethed. "Get out Michelle… just get out".

The rampaging nature of her turbulent soul sought further anger and hatred, but Michelle's head and heart stepped in to stop it. She simmered down whilst staring at the two of them locked in their embrace. Erin's sobs rang out like church bells and it was the only thing that Michelle could hear. The radio might have been on, but she couldn't pick up the words to the song that was playing. All she could hear were Erin's cries. Emotions that she'd created from her own feelings. The deep-rooted jealousy she held them both in. Her mind never considered the jealousy when she stormed up the stairs or when she shoulder barged her way through the door. But that is what it was… she was jealous because they'd gone all the way. The two of them had lost their virginities before Michelle. Michelle had never gone the whole way despite popular belief or what she wanted everyone to believe. It was all a front for her confidence. Destroying Erin's in return only increased the suffering and longing in her heart. _What have I done…_

"Yeah…".

Stepping out of the room, tears in her own eyes, she sank down against the wall at the top of the stairs. Michelle questioned everything she'd thought about Erin and James. _Since when was it her right to tell them what to do? If they were in love… then why shouldn't they consummate their relationship? Why did she have to be jealous?..._

Hearing Orla and Clare begin to stir from their prone positions at the bottom of the stairs, Michelle sniffled one final time and bottled up the emotions that had been set off within her. Her own beliefs caused them, and she would have to deal with them alone. That was the punishment she set herself for inflicting upset upon Erin.

* * *

Michelle, Orla and Clare sat in the front room of the Quinn house in total silence. Michelle had just finished relaying the details of what occurred whilst the other two were out cold. Orla reacted by opening another bag of pick n mix and chomping away in the corner as if the news didn't concern her at all. That came between various attempts at braiding Clare's hair whilst her friend did pay attention to what Michelle had to say.

After coming round from the shock of seeing a lot more of Erin and James than she ever wished to, Clare turned her emotions on Michelle. Despite wishing to scrub the image of the two of them at the top of the stairs from her head permanently, she wasn't angry that they'd done the deed. After all, it was what people in love do and when she found out Michelle's response to the pair, she was overcome with anger towards the young Mallon.

"That was real good of you Michelle!"

"Look, I know…".

"Ye well, the nature of our friendship is being broken apart by you not being able to deal with this! Can't ye just leave them alone and let them get on with their lives".

"It's just…".

"Just what Michelle? Ye keep putting up barriers and dividin' people… christ ye no better than the Brits or the Provo's!".

Clare's words stung her. The sad thing for Michelle was that she knew they were deserved. She'd been a dick and Clare was only reinforcing that to her. She could only hope that Erin would be forgiving. To some extent she didn't care what James thought, he was still English and still a dick, but she wouldn't cope if Erin shut her out. She wouldn't have long to wait because after ten minutes of further melancholy, the creaking of floorboards indicated the return of the couple. She could barely look either of them in the eye when they walked into the living room, hand in hand, and with heads held high. They were walking in preparing for an onslaught from at least two of their friends, but the awkward silence continued as no one said a word. The room was like a scene from one of the old westerns, everyone with hands on their belts and waiting to draw, but in this film, there were no guns. Not even verbal ones.

"I'm sorry".

Michelle got up and ran to Erin, with the hope that she wouldn't be pushed away. Her hope was not forlorn; Erin accepted her with open arms and the two of them began crying onto each other's shoulders. James and Clare exchanged smiles at the scene of their reconciliation, thankful that there would be no lasting repercussions between the two girls. They both added their arms around the two and Orla dived into to make it a full group hug. Tears fell from Clare too as they all grasped each other tightly, James pressing a kiss to the side of Erin's head that allowed her to let out a breath she'd held for minutes. Another moment of peace found at the Quinn house within the troubles…

"We're back!"

_Gerry and Anna… SHIT!_

The group jumped apart, Clare again finding herself on a descent to the floor, albeit from tripping over Michelle's leg rather than fainting. Orla made a valiant attempt to catch her but ended up landing on her, Clare howling as she was flattened by her much taller friend. Gerry arrived in the room right at that moment, a bemused look on his face as he noted the position the two girls found themselves in. He was soon drawn away from them to the faces of the other three. Or rather the three people in the room who were doing everything within their power to not make eye contact with him. He spotted Erin trying to wriggle her hand out of James's grasp and the way Michelle looked as if she'd seen a ghost when he appeared in the living room. _Very odd…_

"Morning girls". Gerry smiled.

"Ach sorry Uncle Gerry…". Orla lifted herself off Clare. "… Clare tripped so she did and I tried to catch her but it didn't work out ye know".

"Aye I can see that". Gerry smirked. "Will ye take Anna for me love".

"Oh YESSS! Come here to your cousin little Anna!"

Orla rushed over to Gerry and he placed the baby into Orla's open arms. She whirled Anna around, and led her over to the window, pointing out to each car on the street and giving her little cousin a detailed explanation as to who drove each one and what they were like. Important information for Anna for the future when she could speak and go and talk to the neighbours. Orla loved a chat to the neighbours, especially Jim over the road. He knew a lot about animals, and she could listen to his stories all day long.

"Are you all alright?" Gerry sensed the tension in the air.

"Fine!" Clare quickly answered for all of the group. "Absolutely fine Mr Quinn. Never been better. So cracker that ye wouldn't believe it!".

"Shut up Clare". Michelle elbowed her in the side.

"Right… so nothing has happened since I've been out". He pressed on.

"We came over for a bottle opener Gerry". Michelle could at least tell that part of the truth. "I've broken ours and Orla said ye had loads so I was gunna borrow one, but we got talking".

Gerry nodded but he'd known Michelle Mallon for too long. She was talking out of her hole and Gerry knew it. Clearly something had transpired since he was out with Anna, but it was going to take a bit more digging to find out.

"Erin and James were naked at the top of the stairs".

Or not.

Orla McCool existed and was in earshot. No further digging required.

Michelle and Clare both closed their eyes in attempts to find their happy places and zone out from the living room of the Quinn house. The reminder of what they'd walked into when they arrived at the house also needed to be scrubbed from Clare's mind again. Erin herself put her hands over her face. This was about to be the worst moment of her life and she balanced the wish to throw Orla out of the window and the imminent need to cry again. The latter won out and tears trickled into her palms as they covered her face.

Meanwhile, James faced the prospect of imminent death. Gerry might not have appeared to be a violent man but that's what terrified James more. You always had to fear the quiet ones. On the upside he wouldn't be dying a virgin, something which one day not long after being dumped in Derry, Michelle told him would happen. But he was about to die because he'd just broken Gerry's trust and deflowered his daughter under his roof. Taking a deep breath, he looked up to Gerry who… began… laughing…

"Pfff…. Hahahahahahha".

They all ceased their various attempts at coping mechanisms, and Orla's narration of cars to Anna, to observe the fit of laughter that overcame Gerry. He was holding onto the sofa just to maintain his balance, stressing just how much the situation amused him. James still held his guard, unwilling to drop it in case he was being lulled into a trap, but Erin's brain told her to find out what the hell her father was doing.

"Daddy?"

"Ahah… hah… oh Erin love… the faces on you two… haha!"

"You do realise they've been at it while ye were out Gerry…" Michelle gently enquired with him. "… rubber an' all".

Quickly realising that her addition to the story only increased Gerry's laughter, Michelle shot Erin and James looks of disbelief. Clare too was having a hard time processing his guffawing. It was hardly a laughing matter.

"Daddy why are ye laughing!" Erin demanded an answer.

"Erin love…" Gerry stopped, coughing a couple of times to keep his composure. "Remember what I said about acting responsibly?"

"Yes… but we… didn't…did we"

"You might find this hard to believe but I was your age too once Erin". He ceased her stammering. "I know what trying to find an opportunity is like… trust me…".

"Eugh Daddy!"

Erin was disgusted by the thought, but James quickly squeezed her hand to make her listen to her father. Through their re-connected palms, Erin could feel how relaxed her boyfriend had become since her father's explanation began. Glancing up at his face, she even noted a thin smile on his lips. _My brave wee English fella…_

"Hey you're lucky love. You two have me to deal with, I had Joe!" Gerry highlighted. "Still have…"

Michelle snorted at that comment, earning herself a side eye from both Gerry and Clare. That put her right back in her place.

"Look, as long as you're using protection then I've no problem with it. But for the love of god do not tell Mary about me allowing this".

James grinned his agreement. There was absolutely no way Mary Quinn could find out the events of Valentine's Day morning of 1996. Not if James still wanted to live and Erin wished for a life outside of a convent.

"But you didn't allow it da, Anna had an appointment". The frowning Erin stated.

"Ah… ha… hahaha! My powers of bullshit are stronger than ever then… haha!".

"What?"

Gerry looked to James and knew the Englishman cottoned on to what he was inferring. Michelle and Clare also wore knowing expressions but Erin, thrown pillar to post between a varying set of feelings that morning, wasn't getting it.

"There was no appointment. And I don't expect your mother to hear about this fantasy appointment you've dreamt up in your head".

"Ach… right!" Erin perked up as the penny dropped. "Thanks Daddy".

She ran forward and jumped into her father's arms; a scene James found heart-warming in contrast to Michelle finding it slightly bokeworthy. _We aren't fucking ten anymore…_

"Now I hope you've planned your cover story". Gerry asked as he put Erin back down.

"Cover story?" Confused, James replied.

"Jesus you're worse than I was". Gerry ran a hand through his hair. "My Mary could find Lord Lucan in the shed if she tried hard enough. You've got to get the condom out of this house before she gets back. And the sheets? Have ye thought about the sheets?"

James and Erin quickly locked eyes in a mutual panic. The spontaneity of the beautiful memories they'd created together that morning seemed perfect at the time but reality had come back to slap them straight across the face in the aftermath. Neither of them thought about the very valid points Gerry had raised. Neither had any idea what to do.

At least they had time on their side.

"Ach look Anna, there's Granda Joe's car and your Mammy's in the passenger seat".

Ah… no they did not…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh-Oh! All hands to battle stations for Chapter 6 :)


	6. Deception

**Chapter 6: Deception**

The kids all looked to Gerry for a plan. He was the only adult after all.

"Orla, stall Mary for as long as you can" Ordering her about in an unusually commanding note, Gerry's mind raced. "Clare, make them both a cup of tea ready for when they come in. And make up a juice for Anna as well".

"Christ… Ok!... Ok!" Clare's customary shite the tights moment occurred.

"What about Anna, Gerry?" Orla asked as she walked over with her cousin on her shoulder.

"Michelle will you take her?"

"What?" The slightly annoyed Michelle replied.

"It'll be your head too ye know. Please?" Gerry pleaded.

"Ach fine. Come here Anna, come and see your favourite aunt Michelle".

Michelle scooped up the baby from Orla's arms and sat down on the floor with her, making faces and doing her best to make the baby laugh. Orla ran off in the direction of the front, stopping to pick up something from the cupboard under the stairs before charging out the door.

"You two". He pointed at James and Erin, the Englishman now having his arm around her. "Quit cuddling and come with me".

Slightly red faced at his comment, they might have been able to hide their embarrassment around the gang, but it was taking time with her parents, they were soon at Gerry's heels as he bounded up the stairs like a Jack Russell. From the mostly mild-mannered father, he'd transitioned into the quick-thinking Sergeant with his raw troops. They were certainly greenhorns when it came to this anyway. _He just needed time._

"Right, James you can bag it up because I'm not touching it". Gerry waved his hand in the direction of the condom.

"With what?"

"There's a little pack of bags in the cupboard by my room, use one of those". Gerry informed him, James soon running off to retrieve them.

"What about me Daddy?" Erin sheepishly asked.

"Wait here. CLARE!"

Gerry's shout resulted in Clare's inevitable cack attack. She almost jumped through the back door from the counter next to it, her back smacking onto the glass. She hated when people shouted her name through a house. All they needed to do was address her lightly, not threaten to force her into a change of clothes.

"Is that Juice done yet!"

"Ye… Yes. Coming Mr Quinn!" She called back.

James returned to the room and Erin couldn't watch him picking up the discarded latex and putting into the little bag. It was mortifying when her father was stood a couple of feet from her, even if he was looking out down the stairs waiting for Clare. Erin fidgeted on the spot, desperately wanting James to hold her but too nervous to even say his name, let alone anything else. Tying the bag up, he stood back up and walked over to Gerry.

"Hold onto that for a minute". Gerry instructed before turning around to the arriving Clare. "Thank ye Clare, you go back down and finish those drinks".

"Yes sir!"

Clare bolted down the stairs, nearly tripping over and landing in a heap at the bottom in the state of pure panic she was in.

"Take the duvet off Erin".

Silently acknowledging her father's commands, Erin stripped the duvet off and found James to be helping her a second later as they threw it to the floor. They were taken by surprise when Gerry launched the juice all over the sheets, right into the middle of the bed.

"Daddy!" Erin complained.

"Have you got any better ideas?" Gerry raised a brow. "No, I didn't think so. Now help me get this sheet off before we become the main course at the Badgers".

The three of them worked together quickly to remove the sheet from the bed and it soon joined the duvet in a messy pile on Erin's floor. Gerry noted the sweat pouring off of the two kids, the effect of their terrified thoughts about Mary's likely reaction should she find out what they'd done. Gerry too was getting a bit warm; he would probably be in for as bad, if not worse a reprimand.

"Why is Mammy even back!" Erin cried out in confusion.

"I have no idea but it can only mean things haven't gone as planned".

"So she'll be raging more than usual… Jesus!" Erin worried.

Confirming Erin's concerns, Gerry took a look out of the window to see what Orla had done to keep Mary and Joe at bay, the front door yet to be heard open. Seeing Orla with the bow in her hand, an arrow ready and the weapon draw, his eyes widened.

* * *

What a waste of a journey it had been that morning. Roisin had already inconvenienced Mary by arranging the meetup at such late notice but then when she never showed at the café it really got to Mary. She should have been at home, keeping an eye on the lovebirds herself and not forcing Gerry to have the day off work to do it for her. Walking around Omagh for an hour was pleasant enough at least and Mary allowed herself a look around the shops, even if she didn't purchase anything. When Joe returned an hour or so later, expecting Mary to be deep in conversation and hoping to slip off to the pub for a pint, he was nearly as disappointed as she was.

On the way to Omagh and on the way back, Joe tried to convince Mary to leave Gerry. The same conversation he'd had with her at least once a week for twenty years. Sometimes with Gerry present and like in the car, without him present. He was yet to make any progress in twenty years though. Mary again insisted she wouldn't leave him, though ultimately accepting as she always did that Gerry was a bit soft sometimes.

Getting out of the car once they were back, Mary noticed Orla running out to see them. Orla who should have been at Michelle's house… Orla who had her bow and arrows.

"Why aren't ya at Michelle's?" Mary put her hands on her hips, not giving Orla a chance to say anything.

"Ach Aunt Mary, I've got something to show ye!"

"That's great Orla love". Mary smiled sweetly… for about a millisecond. "But I'll be showin' ye the wooden spoon if ye don't answer my question".

"Don't be so hard on her Mary". Joe spoke in Orla's defence. "If she wants to show us, then yer question can wait. Go on Orla".

Beaming in appreciation at her Granda, Orla beckoned them to the spot behind Gerry's car, turning them away from the house entirely. She was doing her job perfectly, even if she didn't quite realise the point or how effective it was.

"Ye see that pigeon on Jim's roof".

Joe nodded and Mary stared at her in disbelief. And then at Joe with this same disbelief on registering his acceptance of her comment.

"Orla ye can't shoot the pigeon!"

"I'm not going to Aunt Mary; I'm just pointing out the pigeon that's all. What I wanted to show ye, was that I reckon I could hit that gnome on Jim's wall".

"Ye can't do that either!" Mary sneered.

"It's only his fourth favourite gnome Mary, he won't mind if Orla uses it for a bit of target practice".

Putting the arrow in place, Orla began to get the right focus for the task at hand. She hadn't practiced with the bow since September and was at risk of being rusty and missing her shot. Not helping her concentration was Mary's renewed efforts to prevent the impromptu target practice from taking place, focusing her fire on Joe rather than Orla.

"What sort of example is that setting da? Mary questioned. "Hmmm? That ye can go around with a bow and shoot anything or anyone ye like?"

"Wise up Mary, she's having a bit of fun".

"Aye and when that bow is a gun and that gnome is a wee lad or lass, will ye be saying the same then?"

Orla struggled to keep her mind on the task. The little green gnome with its bright red hat smiled at her from across the street. She felt sorry for the poor wee fella, who would be destroyed by her shot. _Maybe I should name him before I shoot him…_

_What's a good name for a gnome?..._

_Terrance_

_I'll call him Terrance_

Terrance the gnome might have been facing the end of his service, but the Lord was on his side when it came to time because Orla held her bow in a drawn position whilst Mary and Joe continued to argue furiously about the stunt. Mary's arguments devolved into the wider meaning of Orla having a weapon and the symbolisation of it in the time of the troubles. Young kids prancing about the streets with dangerous weapons created a poor image in her mind, but Joe brushed it off as harmless fun. His argument was that in the hands of someone who didn't have any malicious intent to use it, Orla was almost mocking the whole situation but positively. She could be out attacking people with it but instead she was taking a few gnomes out.

Orla didn't really know either way. Uncle Gerry told her to stall them for as long as she could and as far as she was concerned, she was doing a grand job.

* * *

The dream concocted around the blissful experience of making love for the first time always suggested the experience to be sweet and romantic to Erin. Trying to ram your stained sheets into the washing machine in a blind panic when your mother might return at any second didn't appear in the dream sequence. She'd never had the nightmare surrounding the first time but if she had, she reckoned this would have been a part of it. James too, using ever bit of muscle he had, was trying to force the sheet in, but the damned thing wouldn't go. If they done as Gerry suggested to them before coming down and folded it neatly, like they'd done with their clothes earlier that morning, then it certainly would have been better. But in their youthful carelessness they didn't heed his words and now they had a real problem on their hands.

"Bloody thing won't budge". James winced in pain as he pushed again.

Further concerted efforts from the two of them plus additional assistance from Clare still wouldn't get the sheet into the machine.

"It won't fit!" Erin shrieked hysterically.

"I hope that's the first time you've said that today". Michelle piped up from the living room.

The three of them scoffed disgustedly at her in turn, Michelle giggling away and feeling very proud of herself at the comment. She might have to accept it as the new normal, but she'd be damned if she couldn't land a few jabs in here and there. It wouldn't be right any other way.

"We should have listened to Gerry". James sighed.

"Maybe next time the two of you should plan things… ye know… like sensible people!" Clare hissed.

"There won't be a next time if this sheet doesn't get in that machine!" Erin snapped back.

Gerry picked the right moment to return downstairs from his own task, disposing of the bagged-up condom, and noted the argument between the friends. He knew they wouldn't follow his instructions; it was very rare that anyone in the house listened to him or acknowledged his authority. On spotting him walking towards the kitchen, Clare sprinted off back into the living room to get as far away from the chaotic scene as she could. None of them quite understood her motive for doing so but any attempt to rationalise the thought process of a fretting Clare Devlin was a fool's errand.

"Daddy!" Erin cried out in relief. "We've tried to…".

"Did ye fold it up like I said". He cut off her whimpering.

"Well we may have tri…".

"So ye didn't?"

"I'm not saying that…".

"So ye did?"

"No, we didn't Gerry. We were stupid and we didn't listen".

James bit the bullet to stop Erin's befuddling attempt at deceiving her father when it came to his question and Gerry smiled at his honesty. If they weren't under such time pressure, he was sure he would have burst out into laughter at the adorably hapless attempt at trying to get the sheet in the machine. But if Mary came in to find him laughing at it, he would be in the machine with it so a smile was the limit he could push to.

"I'll teach you a trick". He flapped his fingers, parting the two so he could stand directly in front of it. "My father actually taught me this trick. If in doubt, kick the bastard".

Gerry's father taught him well as one big boot from him took the sheet into the machine, where James, Erin and Clare's attempts at pushing it through failed. A hopelessly easy, if unconventional technique. The happy couple couldn't quite believe that after minutes of frantic barging and ramming, that a simple kick would have done the trick.

"Thank you Daddy". Erin breathed a sigh of relief.

"Next time, what will ye do?" Gerry grinned as he put the question across.

"Listen to my Daddy when he tells me what to do". Erin answered serenely.

"Kick the bastard". James sniggered.

Gerry slapped the young Englishman's shoulder and for the first time, with Mary and Joe still kept at bay by Orla, the three of them all laughed together. At the pure stupidity of what the couple had done that morning and how Gerry allowed it to happen… or rather ensured it would happen. James and Erin began to move through to the living room, but Erin squeezed his arm to bring him to halt as she had one final question for her father.

"Daddy, how did ye disp-".

"SHIT! They're coming in!"

Clare's screeching put pay to any answer that Erin might have received from Gerry as they entered the next phase of the panic. They'd not had time to get their stories correlated and agree on a firm structure of how the morning had gone and why Erin's sheets were in the wash. The kids all looked to Gerry again to guide them in what to do.

"Go, all of you just go and for Christ's sake keep Orla's mouth shut".

The four of them made beelines for the front door, grabbing their coats on the way and desperately zipping them up before Mary and Joe made it through the door.

"Michelle". Gerry called, the young Mallon turning around to see a bottle opener flying through the air at her.

"Thanks Gerry". She said as it landed in her open palms.

She couldn't leave the house without what she came for otherwise Mary would never believe their presence at the house stemmed from an innocent reason. And she would have to go and buy one for the party too. Not ideal with the budget she held.

The front door creaked open and it was Mary who appeared first, Orla over her shoulder and Joe bringing up the rear a few steps behind.

"I'm telling ye Aunt Mary, I reckon I'm the next Robin Hood".

"Yer not Robin H-". Mary stopped upon seeing the four jacketed kids, who all look terrified that she'd walked through the door. "What's all this?"

"Needed a bottle opener Mary". Michelle held up the item she'd only been in possession of for a few seconds. "And I need a bit more help with the house, so I came to get Erin and dickface".

"We're heading out now Mammy, I'll see ye later". Erin said to her mother as she brushed past.

The other three followed suit, James directly behind his girlfriend, Michelle holding the bottle opener into the small of his back with Clare trying to hide behind her at the back to avoid Mary's gaze.

"Come on Orla". Erin beckoned her cousin to follow.

"But what abo- WHAM BAR!"

Michelle's quick thinking prevented another case of Orla being too truthful for her own good and they were soon out onto the path, eyed suspiciously by Joe as he followed their every move. He didn't like the way they just ran for it from the house and how terrified they all looked to see them returning. He knew who to blame too.

"Don't worry love". Gerry's sudden appearance got the attention of Mary and unfortunately Joe. "I've read them the riot act already about drinking".

For Gerry, this is where the show began. The first lie of multiple that would appear within the next few minutes of his dramatic retelling of that morning. The complete rubbish of a story he'd created with his own head from the moment he was forced to take a day off work just to babysit the two. If Mary never overlooked the small details when it came to planning and executing their day to day lives, it was Gerry who held the creative flair. He knew Erin got that ability from him rather than her mother.

"Ach great". Joe sneered. "A wasted morning and ye come home and what did ye find… a waste of a man".

"Thanks Joe".

"Don't thank me ye lazy tool".

"That's enough!" Mary intervened as ever. "The pair of ye".

If he wasn't focused upon protecting Erin and James, Gerry would have taken offence at Mary telling him off for the very one-sided mudslinging match in the hallway. Joe was the one hurling insults but it would take a much braver, and also much stupider, man to tell Mary that she was wrong. No man was required to do such a task.

"There's tea for ye in the kitchen love".

"Thanks love". Mary leant forward and kissed him on the cheek, Gerry looking over her shoulder to see Joe's thunderous eyes looking back at him.

"Have ye got lunch ready yet?" Joe enquired aggressively.

"No Joe. Strangely my crystal ball went missing last week and I've not been able to see into the future since".

"Are you getting smart with me ye clown faced shite?". Joe quipped. "I've got my eye on you boy. Always remember that".

Moving through to the kitchen behind Mary, Gerry shivered at Joe's reminder of exactly how the land lied between them. There was no point in dreaming of a day when Joe would soften towards him, the fire in that ideal dying many years ago and he would forever deal with the guns being pointed at him and the snarky comments whenever anything went wrong. Be it his fault or not. It spoke volumes to him that the only times Joe ever showed any compassion his way was at any tragic news stories or when he was under the influence of drugs from the 'funny scones'.

"Why is Erin's sheet in the wash?"

Gerry knew it wouldn't be long until Mary discovered the washing and the next set of lies would be required the moment he returned to the kitchen. All he had to do was get through the afternoon and it would be clear sailing for Erin and James, the secret staying between him and the rest of the gang.

"Ach well love, it's funny ye should ask because it's quite an amusing story…".

* * *

Valentine's Day was always a busy day for Sarah. The moment the doors opened she was busy, and her lunch break came just in time; she was out on her feet. Her normal spot on the bench outside the centre wasn't taken like it had been the day before, so she sat down and began eating the sandwich she'd bought from the shop. The sun's fleeting appearance brightened the day for a couple of minutes before it scuttled back behind the clouds.

"Hello there Ms McCool".

Sarah glanced up from the packed sandwich to see a very unexpected face that the voice belonged to. Antony Scanlon.

"Ach Antony it's yourself".

"Aye". He smiled

"Sit down". She beckoned him over to the spot next to her.

Sarah hadn't seen Antony Scanlon for four years. It was no surprise for her when she learnt of his arrest in Belfast and subsequent imprisonment. He was never a lad to stay away from trouble, a family trait that she first discovered from being at school with his aunt. The light fingers existed at every level of that family, but the violent streak seemed to only possess itself within the older brother of the current generation from what she could see. But she'd also known him to be kind and caring and still owed him for what he'd done for her years before.

"I have to say I'm surprised so I am, I thought ye were still inside the wee jail". She started. "I didn't think you'd come back ye know".

Antony smiled and allowed himself to chuckle at her statement. He'd only been vaguely aware of Sarah McCool for many years, his aunt knew her a little, but they were never really friends. That all changed one day ten years before when the then seventeen-year-old Antony truly crossed paths with her. One of the best parts of his life.

"I was always coming back Ms McCool. Derry's me home so it is…". His voice trailed off as he took in the sights and smells of a city centre that he was only just adjusting to again.

"How's ye ma?"

"She's grand Ms McCool-".

"Ach come on Antony love, ye know ye can call me Sarah".

A part of him jumped for joy that despite everything he'd done over the years, her view of him and their relationship remained unchanged. He let out a breath he'd held since spotting her from across the street minutes earlier.

"How's yer wee Orla then Sarah?"

"She's not so wee now Antony!" She joked. "Cracker she is, she's right into Step Aerobics now ye know Ant and it keeps her happy, so it does".

Hearing that Orla was enjoying her life also gave him some satisfaction. He remembered the little girl that even at such a young age, was the spit of her mother in the way she acted. Never shy of confidence but lacking in common sense, he remembered the time spent with her with both fondness and sadness. He doubted Orla remembered him though, it having been so long ago.

"That's grand Sarah, she's a good girl is yer Orla. And what about Joe and the rest of the family?"

"Nothing changes there Ant, me Da's the same as ever. Still trying to convince Mary to leave Gerry, you remember how it was?"

He remembered very well. It was still amusing to him this day, the lengths that Joe would go to convince his daughter to ditch her supposedly troublesome husband. And he'd only seen it for the briefest period of time; he couldn't imagine what years of it would be like.

"And how's their wain? The little feisty one"

"Ha well she's still got the spirit of her mother has our Erin". She smiled sweetly to him. "Got herself a fella now as well. English lad would ye believe".

"Ah is that the English fella our Danny's mentioned. Michelle Mallon's cousin?"

"Aye that's him, James. I thought for ages he was… gay…". She dropped to a whisper. "… but our Erin's all over him so she is. And he's a nice fella for an English".

A nice English fella. Antony was yet to meet one in his life but he'd never known Sarah to be a liar so the lad must have been somewhat alright. Not that it mattered…he was English and that was what everyone saw.

"Aye Danny said the wee English fella was living with Michelle. They still up at the same place?"

"That they are Ant. So is yer Danny seeing Michelle then?"

"Early days yet Sarah but he's keen!" Antony chortled, Sarah doing the same in turn. "I've got to get going now but it's nice to see ye. I've missed friendly faces".

"Good to see ye too Ant".

Sarah leant forward and hugged him, and he appreciated the gesture, wrapping his arms around her back.

The smile on his face was uncontrollably wide.

* * *

"And why did ye let Anna have her juice upstairs!?"

Gerry was met with her full fury about the juice-stained sheets and the explanation for just how they'd managed to get into that state. He expected her to be angry about it. Mary had told him a few times in the past to not let Anna have her juice upstairs and he'd disobeyed her instructions on the matter. Joe likewise tutted his frustration, a fairly tame rebuke for him. The important thing for Gerry was that Mary fully bought the total fabrication of why the sheets were really in the wash, even if it meant he was getting an earful for it. Erin and James would escape with nothing and that only made him smile.

"Erin wanted to play with her and… ye did say to keep an eye on them".

"You blamin' my Mary?!" Joe immediately jumped in.

Gerry looked to Mary who seemed to be going down the same line of thinking as her father and as per usual, he was outnumbered.

"I'm not saying that Joe".

"Sounds like it…ye prick".

Mary didn't say anything and instead got up to make another cup of tea. A silence then occupied the kitchen for the next few minutes. Joe settled in and read his paper, occasionally laughing or grimacing depending on the story he was reading. Gerry tried to think of something to ease the tension that had built from the moment the two of them returned from their indifferent trip to Omagh. It was Valentine's Day after all and except the card and flowers he'd given Mary the moment she roused, he wasn't planning to do anything else. Most of the time they tried to do anything as a couple it would end up with one of the others tagging along, or sometimes with all of them. Getting time alone together was exceptionally rare but it wasn't impossible and he dared to dream in his head.

"Are you alright to have Anna tonight Joe?" Gerry broke the silence to address his father in-law.

From behind his paper, Joe began to scowl the moment the southern bastard opened his voice. A natural reaction for him whenever that despicable sound entered his conscience. _Why the hell should I be watching the wain?_

"A little hard of hearing there Joe?" Gerry jested dangerously. "I said are-".

"I heard ye the first time!" Joe threw his paper down onto the table in disgust. "Why aren't you watching her tonight. Yer her father ye lazy shite".

"Me and Mary are going out for dinner tonight Joe, so we need someone to watch Anna".

Mary dropped the spoon, not the infamous wooden one thank god, straight onto the floor upon hearing her husband speak. She wasn't sure what had gotten into him, because he was dreaming up a dinner they were supposedly going on and recklessly telling Joe about it. Gerry must have been high as a kite to be spouting such ridiculousness to Joe, the very man who would slit Gerry's throat given the chance. Her own reaction did little to help her, immediately revealing to the wise Joe that he was making up their dinner date.

"Ya know about this love?" Joe shifted around to meet her eyes.

"Ach… erm… no. No I didn't Da".

"Right". Joe seethed under his breath. "I see yer game here, ye dirty short-arsed fecker. Luring my Mary out to some deserted house to get her pregnant again. I'm gunna rip yer-".

"Da!" Mary stopped his rage with a hand on his shoulder. "I think Gerry meant it to be a surprise, didn't ye?"

Softening on his wife coming to his aid this time, Gerry smiled and nodded a confirmation to her question. Putting a smile on her face was always a delight for him, even after so many years of the love they shared together.

"A little Valentine's Day surprise".

Mary moved over to him and leant down to give him a sweet kiss, reminiscent of their first kiss together under the streetlights at the city walls. Short but neat, expressing their love together within a few sweet seconds instead of eating the faces off of each other and having their hands roam their bodies wildly.

"OI! Ye get yer hands off my Mary!"

The two of them laughed at Joe for once, who reacted by slamming his fist onto the table, knocking Gerry's mug onto the floor and smashing it. Mary's blood pressure went through the roof as the pieces broke apart all over the floor and scattered like a flock of birds. Gerry wasn't as angry and the creative plans that he'd lived by that day added a final extension to their well-rounded bow. Once the idea got into his head, it was game over for Joe.

"Ye better get that cleaned up Da or I will have ye out on yer ear!"

"I beg ye-"

"Wait. I'll get it picked up for ye love". Gerry held up a hand to stop Joe, who'd began to shout. "But only if Joe has Anna for the evening".

Joe anticipated Gerry's tactic the moment he opened his mouth but without a convincing argument to avoid both babysitting and picking the broken mug up, he had to concede one way or the other. And he'd take the precious time with his granddaughter over the exhausting search for every last piece of the mug. It became even more frustrating to him that Sarah had finally decided the night before to go to the single's night she'd be on about for weeks. Flitting between going and not going, they'd not heard the end of it for so long and now Joe wished she'd have forgotten about it because it left him as the only one to look after Anna.

"One day Gerry, I'm going to take ye to a big field and just feckin shoot ye".

Gerry took that as a yes.

* * *

After escaping the clutches of her mother, and to some extent Granda Joe, Erin found herself waking with her head on James's lap on the Mallon's sofa. They'd fallen asleep at some point that afternoon, having helped put the finishing details to the house ahead of the party. A house that would soon be crammed full of energetic youngsters, chilling out and having the time of their lives on Valentine's Day. Erin considered her day to have peaked much earlier and the party came as a mere afterthought to the main event of her day. It would never hold the significance of what had happened that morning. Opening her eyes, she found the mystical green irises that captivated her starring down and that familiar lopsided grin lying ready in wait. She could also feel the hand stroking her hair and occasionally brushing the top of her head.

"Hello sleepy". He grinned.

"Mmmm". She stirred. "What time is it?"

"Only about half five". He chuckled.

 _Half five… half five!_ Erin quickly calculated in her head that by the time they'd finished helping the others and had something to eat it must have been three and she sat down not long after so… _she'd been asleep for over two feckin hours!_

"Catch yourself on!" She shot up but found herself pushed back down by his left hand.

"Relax. I've not long woke up myself". James smiled and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. "Almost as if we've both needed to rest".

He was teasing her now and she knew it. And she absolutely loved it. His lopsided grin grew improbably wider, the cue for her to pull his head down and kiss him furiously. After an initial offer of resistance, James couldn't hold out for any longer and just let her devour him from her position on his lap. Within a few seconds they were moving again, James shuffling around from his seated position and covering Erin, their lips never parting. He couldn't care one bit if the others returned from their brief excursion to the shops on Orla's insistence that they needed more sweets. He couldn't care if Aunt D-

"Ahem!"

James suddenly could care if Aunt Deirdre walked in on the two of them rolling about on the sofa and seeing exactly where his hands were. Erin practically kneed him in the crotch to get him to roll off, James smashing into the floor a second later, hearing Deirdre's snort from the other side. Erin's face was beetroot red and she quickly grabbed a cushion to hide her face from his aunt, whilst James got up from the floor to meet her face to face.

"Look James, I've no problem with the two of ye being together, but I won't have ye giving Erin a chest examination on my sofa!"

Feeling the burning sensation in her cheeks rise from beneath the cushion, Erin didn't dare remove it to see the face on Deirdre. She would let James take the flack for this one; it was his house and his aunt.

"I…"

"Ach quit yer blubbering James, I've got to get to work".

"MOTHERFUCKERSSSSSSSSSSS".

Erin did pull the cushion away when she heard Michelle's voice, eyeing James with an inquisitive look upon hearing her familiar phrase. She knew Michelle would shout it everywhere else when she'd turn up, but she never expected her to shout it when going back to her own house. She could also feel Deirdre's wince behind her, and James confirmed with a roll of his eyes that it wasn't the first time Michelle had shouted their house down with it.

"What have I said about that Michelle!" Deirdre shouted in return.

"Sorry Ma". A very unconvincing apology spluttered out of her mouth.

James and Erin got to their feet and were shocked to find a fourth figure accompanying the gang. And a fella at that. He was a tall lad, marginally taller than James but towering over Clare who stood in front of him. His build was far more muscular than James and his hair far shorter. James took note of the tattoo that ran across his neck and onto the side of his face, a strange but quite threatening look for a lad of their age. Most perplexing of all was the way Erin grabbed his hand and squeezed it so tightly that he could feel his fingers aching under the pressure. Whoever this lad was, Erin was petrified of him.

"Ma, this is…".

"I don't care Michelle. I'm off to work. And if I come in and find this place trashed and with drunk kids all over the floor, then ye better get yer spot at the cemetery reserved because you'll be in there first thing".

"Yes Ma". Michelle murmured as her mother walked past her, offering no gesture to the lad by her side nor the rest of the gang.

They waited for Deirdre to leave, giving James the time to whisper to Erin, Michelle watching the two of them with an ounce of suspicion. She never trusted them when they started whispering behind the group's back. They did everything together and they talked to each other about everything, so the need for secrecy could only mean it involved her. But after her outburst earlier in the day, Michelle found herself wanting when it came to criticising the two of them or saying anything derogatory at all.

"You two". Michelle eventually found the right words. "I'd like ye to meet Danny".

Unbeknownst to Michelle, James already knew who he was thanks to his whisper to Erin and her subsequent answer. He wanted to find out exactly why Erin was suddenly terrified by the lad's presence and James needed to know if dealing with him would be necessary. Even if Danny was far more muscular and a bit taller than him, absolutely no one made his Erin feel vulnerable and afraid. And anyone who dared would be dealt with.

"Danny this is Erin". Michelle pointed out, Erin sending the lad a shy smile without making any prolonged eye contact. "And that there is the dickhead of an English cousin of mine who she's fallen in love with".

"Ye must be James". Danny held out his hand to greet him.

"Yes. Nice to meet you". James accepted the diplomatic handshake.

"He doesn't seem like that much of a dick Michelle". Danny looked back at her. "Got a good handshake on ye as well".

For the second time that week James found his ability to shake hands complimented, finding it strange that of all of his features, it was his handshake that people liked. Well certain other features were liked by Erin but that was different…

"Must be hard for ye…". Danny continued after the gesture. "…Sharing the house with this mouthy one".

"Oi!" Michelle smacked him on the arm, a gruff laugh being sent her way in reply.

"I get by". James chuckled. "How come you're here so early, I didn't think you would be with us until later this evening?"

"Well, if I'm going to be seeing more of Michelle, I need to learn the best routes to walk her home on don't I."

"And we needed help carrying the sweets". Orla pointed out.

James nodded to them both but still felt uncomfortable about how much force Erin was applying to his hand. The others moved on through to the kitchen after a couple of seconds, Clare sharing James's worried look at Erin's reaction, indicating fears of her own. James had heard about the Scanlon's the day before in the car but being the epitome of not judging a book by its cover, he'd reserved judgement on any of them before meeting them. But with the fright it put into Erin, he didn't need any more proof to know they couldn't be trusted… even if Michelle thought otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a shorter Chapter 7 to finish this story off, all being well tomorrow :)


	7. A bit more than a cream horn

**Chapter 7: A bit more than a cream horn 15** **th** **February 1996**

Gerry owed the Lord so much at church, that Sunday couldn't come quick enough. Unluckily for him it was only Thursday and there were still a lot of sparks he expected to see fly before then. He'd enjoyed a lovely dinner with Mary on Valentine's evening, finding one of the best restaurants in town and treating themselves. Somehow, they never met a single member of the family and it was the first time in years they'd done anything as a couple on Valentine's Day. After the calamity that proceeded in the first half of the day, it was relaxing for Gerry to be able to spend such quality time with his wife. Returning home later than night, they waited up as a couple for Erin and Orla to come home and the two girls rambled in at a respectable eleven thirty. James accompanied them to the door and shared a grateful smile with Gerry, Mary's eyes narrowing at it, but they escaped further interrogation due to it being so late. That had been added to Gerry's Sunday prayers.

He was already nearly ready for work when Sarah strolled past him and into the kitchen, joining Joe at the table while Mary did some toast.

"How did ye date night go then Sarah". Mary enquired with interest.

"Ach not too bad Mary". She replied, stopping to take a sip of her tea. "I met a couple of nice fellas but no one too special".

"Any man who wants to be with my daughters has to be special alright". Joe huffed. "Just a shame Mary took it in the intellectual sense, didn't ye love".

Mary rolled her eyes at another insult about Gerry, who heard it from the hallway and sighed. Mary soon came out of the kitchen and headed in the direction of the stairs, straining a smile in his direction in acknowledgement of Joe's latest tirade. He sat at the bottom of the stairs whilst tying his shoelaces, thinking about how busy he would be after a day off. They always lumped extra work on him the next day when he did.

"How was ye party last night Orla". He heard Joe asking her from the kitchen, Orla sat in the living room.

"Not bad Granda, not bad". She replied.

"What's the craic then Orla love?". Her mother added.

"Ach mammy, Michelle was ripping so she was. Her Danny got Jenny and Aisling drunk and they were throwing up everywhere!"

"The Joyce wain? Yer having me on Orla?" The shocked Joe retorted.

"No Granda I swear on Erin's diary that that's the truth".

Ignoring the odd comment about the diary, Joe pondered the Joyce family dealing with their daughter turning up drunk at home. It would certainly take them down a peg from their upper-class lifestyle, having to deal with a common drunk teen like any other parents would. It was as he came out of those thoughts that Joe first recognised the heavy stomping on the stairs. Mary was absolutely thundering down them, nearly wiping out Gerry at the bottom as he still tied his laces. Frowning, Joe caught the murderous look on Mary's face when she re-entered the kitchen but never got the chance to even open his mouth before she began her crusade.

"YOU DIRTY OLD MAN!" She roared at him.

"YOU WHAT!" Joe immediately pushed the chair back and stood so he was face to face with his daughter.

"I know you're game Da!" She continued. "You were happy to have Anna here last night so ye could put her to bed and have yer fancy woman round".

"Da!?" A shocked Sarah asked.

"Now just one minute!" He shouted. "I have no idea what yer talking about. I haven't got a fancy woman!"

"It's probably that harlot from up Pump Street!". Mary looked at Sarah, sharing nods.

"Maeve is not a harlot!" Joe protested. "And I've only seen her at church for your information. So I suggest ye quit with yer accusations before I lose it!"

Holding the bin bag up so he could see it, Joe still couldn't work out what Mary was getting at and he was right at the end of his tether. She pulled it away before he could see into it any further, allowing Sarah to examine the contents and Joe saw her usually colourful cheeks turn visibly pale. The venom that was locked into Mary's eyes could also be found in Sarah's. In the background, he heard Gerry call Orla out to the stairs and then the vague sound of the floorboards creaking as someone ran upstairs.

"That's a bit more than a cream horn Mary!" Sarah shouted in a mix of anger and despair.

"MARY!" He shouted. "Will ye tell me what's going on!"

Bubbling with rage but also upset, Mary's lip quivered for a few moments, the words stuck on the end of her tongue and refusing to escape.

"Oh Aye I'll tell ye Da! I'll tell ye!".

"GO ON THEN!" The rage began to consume him with her stalling.

"A CONDOM! In yer bin bag! I FEEL SICK!"

"WHAT!"

At the bottom of the stairs, Gerry was practically rolling around in laughter, having to cover his mouth with his hand to stop them hearing him. Years of abuse, mostly taken without any form of retaliation, had led to this moment. The ultimate revenge on Joe. From the tantalisingly terrible scenario he'd partly helped to create with Erin and James, the idea was sown into his head when the task of disposing of it was his. As much as he wanted to have a romantic meal with Mary, the whole meal out was a front for his real aim to get one over on Joe. Knowing Sarah would be out of the house and the kids would be at Michelle's for her party too, finding an excuse for him and Mary to disappear for a couple of hours created the window. Joe would have no choice but to look after Anna and the smashed mug only furthered Gerry's causes on the day. He knew Mary wouldn't do the bins until the following day if they got back late enough in the evening and with the right time of day set for Joe to have a potential liaison, he also knew Mary would accuse him without another thought. It was juvenile but he'd be damned if he didn't feel good for doing it. It had been a long time coming.

Composing himself, Gerry chose that moment to leave, knowing that once the idea resonated with Mary and Sarah then they wouldn't let it go. His work was done. He didn't even bother calling out to them, letting them continue their now furious argument. Clicking his heels on the way out to the car, Gerry revelled in one of his great achievements. And for a few moments, felt like a young man again.

* * *

Erin awoke to shouting downstairs and the front door slamming shut, wondering what in the good Lord's name was going on. She failed to notice Orla sat at the end of her bed straightaway, cacking it a few seconds later when she sat up.

"Jesus Orla!" The shocked Erin remarked.

"Ach sorry Erin, Gerry told me to come and hide in yer room while our mammies argue with Granda".

"What are they arguing about?"

"From what I could hear, Mary found a condom in Joe's bin and she reckons he had a woman round here last night while we were all out. Mammy thinks he's got a young mistress, but I reckon that's strange because…".

Orla continued speaking but Erin didn't pick up on a single word because she knew exactly why there was a condom in her Granda's bin. There was no fancy woman from Pump Street this time, or a young mistress, and the question she'd gone to ask her father but never received an answer for, answered itself.

_Good for you Daddy… good for you…_

When the gang met up later in the park, and Erin and James snuck off behind a tree to enjoy a private moment, he could barely contain his laughter as she retold the story to him. They were so lucky that Gerry was such an understanding man and was actively encouraging every aspect of their relationship.

Not that it would be any easier the next time.

But when Erin whispered something in his ear a few seconds later, James was contented in the knowledge that there would certainly be a next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the reviews on this story and the rest of the series so far :) There will be a Part 11...


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